Invisible Man
by ShinkonoKokoro
Summary: AU     "You are capable of more?"   "More? Your majesty?"   "More types of spells. More brain cells as well?"   "Yes," he hissed.   "Protect yourself."   "What?"   "Carl, shoot him."  Getting captured by Uther doesn't quite have the results Merlin expect
1. Chapter 1

_Escape-Escape-Escape-Escape-Escape__._The mantra ran through Merlin's head as he wrestled with the cuffs in the prison cell. Eyes wide and glancing everywhere, listening to everything, he tried every spell he could think of to free himself, to remove himself from the cell, to escape, to vanish, to transform, _anything_. But the magic wasn't there. He couldn't do anything. Well, the magic _was_ there, but Merlin couldn't access it. It was fuzzy and distant. He suspected the cuffs. The room appeared to be a normal blank cell for holding. Uther's hatred for magic had apparently resulted in some sort of science-fuelled blockage for magic-users. He was stuck.

But if he didn't get out of there soon, he'd be missing his head. Or resemble a piece of swiss cheese.

He swore under his breath as a distant door opened and struggled more furiously, trying so hard to be quiet. Scooting to the back of the cell, he tucked himself into a corner, unusual blind panic taking over his mind as he tried to make himself as small as possible. Keys jangled closer and closer just out of time with the stomp of industrial boots. He focused his gaze on his feet and breathed. The footsteps came to a measured halt outside of his cell.

"Look at me."

Merlin looked up, confident that abject terror was present on his face.

"So we've finally caught you. Merlin," King Uther's cold voice prefaced. "You're remarkably young."

Silence.

"It seems they work, Devin," Uther said, a pleased note entering his voice. "You cannot escape?"

Merlin gave his head a short shake, wondering what the hell was going on.

"You cannot perform...magic?" he spat the last word.

Again, a negative shake.

"Excellent."

That silence again. Merlin looked at his feet.

"I've heard of you, Merlin."

"Of me?" he squeaked, glancing up.

"Yes," Uther said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I've heard you have great power. And if even you cannot escape from my cuffs, then I suppose my science team did a good job. Don't you think?"

"Please don't kill me, Sire! I know I did magic. I'm sorry! I'm really sorry, but I just—my mother! I have to care for her! I'm small, I can't do hard jobs without a little help. I'm not stealing or doing anything evil—please! I just—"

"Shut up," Uther said casually with a wave of his hand. He looked at Merlin again, an expression akin to curiosity burning beneath the expressionless face. "I want you to show me."

Merlin gaped. "What?"

"Do you have a mental affliction or something? Show me what you can do."

"M-magic?"

"No, you fool," Uther rolled his eyes, "tap-dancing. Of course magic!"

"But...you...hate magic?"

"Stand up," he snapped. "Devin, get those cuffs off of him."

The man named Devin scooted forward into the newly opened cell and hauled Merlin to his feet rather easily.

"Wait."

Devin looked back to Uther for guidance.

"Merlin." The man caught his eye. "I assure you that if you vanish from this cell, I will hunt you down until you are caught again. Then you will sit in this cell for the rest of your life after watching me kill your family, your friends, associates, people you have spoken to kindly... you get the picture."

He paled and nodded, mouth suddenly dry. "I...understand..."

"Understand, what."

"I understand, your majesty." He dropped his head and waited for Uther's lackey to remove the cuffs. "What do you want me to do?" he asked miserably, voice more of a croak.

Uther shrugged. "Anything. Harm me or my associates, however, and the same threat applies."

Lifting his shoulders slightly, Merlin protested, "I wa-wasn't going to!"

Uther's stare was hard and cold.

With a sigh so small it was almost internal, Merlin lifted a hand and whispered a word, flames dancing upon it.

"What else."

The flames transformed into a bird, flitting through the cell. Some of the security detail backed away as it came close, but Merlin had it transform to a lizard that scaled down the bars and then vanish as it touched the ground.

"Is that the limit of your power, sorcerer?" Uther's voice lifted with scorn.

"_No_, but I don't know what you want of me?" Merlin replied a little heated.

"Something distinctly more impressive."

Refraining from rolling his eyes heavenward, Merlin whispered again and slowed time, stepping out from underneath Devin's hand on his shoulder to the opposite corner. As it sped up again, he heard snatches of the security barking, "Where did he go! Shit!"

It was only when Merlin barked in the form of a dog that they froze and Uther's gaze fell on him again. "Interesting..."

Merlin trotted to the centre of the cell and sat. He waited while Uther's mind calculated whatever punishment would be his.

"Change back," he ordered.

Merlin clambered to his feet when he was in his own form again.

"You are capable of more?"

"More? Your majesty?"

"More types of spells. More brain cells as well?"

"Yes," he hissed.

"Protect yourself."

"What?"

"Carl, shoot him."

Merlin yelped, barely having time to guide the stale air around him to form a shield. "What the hell was _that_!" He stomped a foot as the bullet froze and Merlin directed it to the floor.

"Watch your tongue," Uther threatened calmly.

"Can you do the same for others?"

"Protect them like that? Yeah."

"Reliably?"

"Of course!"

"Can you do what you're told?"

Merlin glared. "Most days."

Uther nodded. "Very well then. Gentlemen, leave us."

Merlin paled again, having forgotten to whom he was speaking. "Wait! Wait, I don't—"

"Shut up, Merlin."

He fell silent and waited for the tromp-tromp of boots heading away. Away from rescuing him. He felt them go, thinking of all of the people that he loved and all of the people he was leaving behind. His mum, Gwen, Will, Delilah, Joe, Morgan, Peter—

"You have two options, Merlin Emrys."

His gaze returned to the king's face. "Yes?" he demanded with breathless hope.

"One," Uther began sternly with a small nod, "you will be executed publicly as a traitor, body dumped into a grave after being shot by a firing squad."

Merlin swallowed in terror, feeling his knees begin to give way.

"Two, you will be _executed_ in private, declared a traitor, and you will cease to exist. Then, a _specifically_ skilled man will enter my employ to protect my son from any and all harm—_from a distance—_never speaking to anyone, _ever_, because you do not exist." Uther arched an eyebrow. "Am I clear in your two choices?"

Merlin nodded, not daring to breathe and hoping he didn't piss himself.

"Now. Will your execution be public or private?"

"Private," he exploded at a whisper. "_Definitely_ private."

Uther nodded, seeming pleased. "Excellent. Then, Merlin Emrys, from this moment, you will cease to exist. Your code-name is 'Falcon.' That is all you shall respond to."

"Can I... Can I write a letter to my mum? Last rights, you know?"

Uther hesitated, narrowing his eyes.

"Tell her I love her one last time?" Merlin pleaded, hating the reedy sound to his voice.

"Very well," the king relented.

"And Gwen?"

"That's fi—"

"And my best mate Will?"

"That is _all_."

Merlin nodded his understanding. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much it means to me. Thank you, really, your majesty. I'm very thankful for this opportunity. I—"

"Stop talking."

His mouth snapped shut.

Lifting his hand to show the keys to the cuffs, Uther stepped closer. "If you do not follow my every directive, I will have you killed."

"You couldn't be clearer, your majesty."

"Good. You will be trained in the art of being unseen—"

"Oh, that's not necessary. I can make myself invisible," Merlin proffered.

"Invisible?" Uther seemed surprised.

One point for Merlin. "Well, not invisible, but such that people don't notice me."

"I see. All the same, you will also be trained in the use of fire-arms and protocol. And you will _never_ enchant me."

"Okay. I understand."

"You will be provided quarters wherever my son is staying," Uther instructed, stepping out of the cell and gesturing for Merlin to follow. "He is not to know that you exist. If you are ever found or arrested, I will _not_ acknowledge you, because you do not exist. You will not be reinstated if you are found. So speak to no one. Your job will be to protect my son from any and every _specifically_ skilled attacks as well as anything that happens to slip by the other security detail. Understand? The first sign that you are not dedicated to your job, you will be executed. Am I making myself clear?"

"Crystal," he whispered, desperately feeling the need to wet himself again. "Um..."

"No questions. You will—"

"I really need to use the loo."

Uther sighed and took his elbow like he was reluctant to touch him, guiding him to a small closet with a toilet. "If you disappear—"

"I promise, your majesty. I won't. You can trust me."

"I should hope so," the king retorted. "After all, you will be guarding my son."

Merlin nodded and slipped in the door, sighing with relief. When he was finished, he exited to find Uther talking to two security men.

"Kay and Percival will take you to where you are staying, prep you on my son's habits and manner, and feed you. You will not evade them—"

"Or else I'll face a horrible death."

The small smile was cruel, yet amused. "You learn fast."

"I aim to please, sire."

"Very well. Away with you then. Make sure no one besides myself, Kay, and Percival see you."

Merlin nodded and found the two intimidatingly large men gripping his biceps as he was moved, rather than walking himself, towards an unknown location. "Um. Hi! I'm Merlin. Sorry, Falcon. I'm Falcon."

They were silent.

"Nice to meet you?"

More silence. Merlin huffed. It must be a trend.

* * *

It was much later that night—morning really—when Merlin was finally allowed to sleep, the light peeking through his tiny slit of a window up near the ceiling. It certainly was private. He now knew more about England's 'Golden Child' than he ever wanted to, Percival and Kay having been more than informative and thorough. Merlin shuddered at the thought of Arthur's toenails as he crawled onto the cot, too tired to even eat the meagre fair they'd set on the bed-side table. He fell asleep rather immediately after he closed his eyes.

Only to be woken at 8 A.M. By a rough, insistent Kay.

"Time to report to duty, Falcon."

_Falcon_? Then he remembered, sitting up and stretching.

"Breakfast is on the table. Today you learn everything about fire-arms."

"Um... Just so you know," Merlin yawned. "I'm pretty nervous around guns. They make me uncomfortable."

"Well," Kay said with a grim smile, "they're going to be your best friend, starting today."

He grimaced and shoved the piece of toast into his mouth before standing. "Do I get a shower? Change of clothes?"

"Later," Kay promised. "Let's go. And no funny business. Or else—"

"Everything and everyone I love will be destroyed and I'll die a painful death. I know," Merlin rolled his eyes.

Kay blinked and then smiled. "Yeah."

* * *

It was about a quarter past four when Merlin collapsed onto the bed again. Now he really _did_ know everything about guns. Specifically the way a rifle shot back against his shoulder when he wasn't holding it properly. His thin shoulder was paying the price. Struggling to his feet again, Merlin wandered into the closet loo that was attached to his room and stripped, the hot water delicious after spending all day feeling dirty. With all of the hubbub about his magic, he didn't dare magic himself clean either. And anyway, a shower always felt better.

After being clean, he picked at the rest of the food on the plate, sitting down at the utilitarian desk to write his letters. Hopefully, Uther would deliver them. When it neared 8 P.M., he slipped back into the cot and slept. Training began again at 8.

* * *

After a week, everyone was apparently satisfied that Merlin was ready. His uniform consisted of a solid grey suit, sensible trainers, and a personal ear piece directly to the king. Never to be used, of course, for menial chatter, and Uther didn't want to hear a peep out of him unless Uther contacted him specifically.

Starting the next day at six, he would have to follow the prince around, be his invisible shadow and make sure nothing terrible happened to him. And since Merlin wanted to keep his head, that's what he would do. He walked past a servant to make sure that his spell was working and then slipped into the prince's bedroom with Kay who, it appeared, was designated waker-uper. That was one job he was glad he didn't have.

"Good morning, your highness," Kay intoned. "Your father expects you for breakfast in an hour."

A blonde head, golden rather literally, rolled from one side of the pillow to the other, a groan emitting from the bed. "Kay, I thought I told you I wasn't having breakfast with him this morning."

"Apparently, sire, your father disagrees."

At this, the head turned into a nude chest sitting upright. "Of _course_ he doesn't agree. He _wants_ to have breakfast with me."

"And how is that such a bad thing," Merlin snorted to himself, having never known his own father.

"Who said that!" Arthur's eyes narrowed as he glared around the room.

Merlin clapped a hand over his mouth, stepping back from his surveillance at the window and threw Kay a wide-eyed look. He mouthed his apology in response to the man's hard glare.

"Sorry, sire?"

"Someone said something!"

The maids kept their heads down and the two other security members exchanged glances. "I'm sorry, but I didn't hear anyone else say anything," Kay said firmly, moving to hand the prince a shirt. "However, I do know that your father will be unhappy if you are late to breakfast. I believe he has some things to discuss with you about your upcoming birthday party."

Arthur glowered. "Fabulous. Absolutely fantastic. Probably the guest list." He slipped out of the bed and accepted the shirt, changing quickly into a pair of slacks. Disappearing into the loo, Merlin twiddled his thumbs, certain there were no snipers aiming in the prince's window, and certain he was going to get a dressing-down by Kay later on for his slip.

The prince returned, hair now neatly groomed, and face looking freshly-washed. "Do I need anything?" He folded his arms, managing to look incredibly bored, but also insanely condescending.

Mental note, Merlin thought sourly: the prince is a prat. So much for the 'golden child.' Will would laugh his head off if he heard—Merlin shoved the thought away, face tightening. But he couldn't talk to Will anymore, could he. He sighed instead, half-listening as Kay listed a litany of things that Arthur had to do that day. He followed aimlessly to the dining hall, standing in the corner before remembering his job. Protect the prince. So he made his way around the room, peeking out windows, using his magic to search for ill-will before giving Uther a smile he hoped convey the all-clear.

He must have gotten it, for he nodded slightly and then paid Merlin no more attention. Instead, he reprimanded Arthur about his list of personal 'friends' he wanted to invite to his party and said that there was no way that Gwaine Innonce was coming. The last bash had been a _terrible_ event, and Gwaine's social manner was disgraceful and plebeian.

Arthur huffed in response and rolled his princely eyes with the excuse that Gwaine was _fun_, couldn't he just come? Arthur would keep a keen eye on him, of course. He was a friend, after all. And he couldn't just un-invite him, could he?

They argued over several others, but Uther relented and Arthur had somehow conned his father into allowing all of the guests. The boy would make an excellent politician, Merlin thought, leaning back against the wall.

Eventually, however, it was time for Arthur to leave for Uni. Where Merlin would follow him. His ears pricked at this information, and he scurried after the prince after a head-jerk from Uther accompanied by his usual intimidating glare. With a mental shrug, he grinned. Free education! His mum would be pleased. Except that... she would never know. She thought he was dead. The thought stirred up the panic he had been entirely too busy to worry about while he was being trained.

Following Arthur blindly into the limo, he trained his eyes to look for potential threats. But there was no magic astir. This close, he went for a total invisibility spell.

"Percival, I'd really appreciate it if you would keep more distance than usual," Arthur drawled.

"May I inquire why, sire?"

"No."

Merlin blinked over at the prince. Just 'no.' No explanation? He really was a prat...

"Then I cannot."

"You're _my_ bodyguard, are you not?

"Yes, your highness." The man seemed unfazed by this path of discussion.

"Then you should listen to me when I give you an order."

"Your father gives me orders, sire."

Arthur threw up his hands and then tucked them into the opposite side and sulked.

"Face'll freeze like that," Merlin muttered, rolling his eyes towards the window.

"Percival, was that you?" Arthur accused immediately.

The man in question merely arched a well-trained eyebrow and shook his head. "I've said nothing, sire."

When Arthur looked down into his bag, pulling out his ipod, Percival sent him a murderous look. Merlin ducked his head, apologetic and nodded when Percival made a lip-zipping motion.

"Well, my ipod's not on, and I am not receiving a call. I _know_ I heard someone say something. It wasn't your phone, was it, P?"

"No, sire. It is on silent. I did not hear anything."

"Well you'd better get your ears checked if you're going to be a good body-guard," the blonde snapped before slouching back into the leather seat.

Merlin sighed. It was apparently going to be a long day.

* * *

Merlin discovered several things on his first day following Arthur at school. 1. Arthur had a lot of really attractive friends. 2. Arthur _was_ England's golden boy outside of his father's presence and home. 3. Arthur actually did have a brain in his head. If Merlin were to judge by Arthur's answers on a pop quiz. 4. Merlin could have quite a bit of fun with the crown prince and his invisibility.

He watched the prince horse around with his circle of friends after classes, teasing a lower classman. Merlin made Arthur trip so the boy could get away.

"Good one, Arthur," a female voice called out.

"Morgana!" the prince drawled, managing to look condescending even as he lay on his stomach, head in his hand.

The boys all straightened, trying to look suave and attractive. Merlin snickered.

"Making more lives miserable?" she quipped with a toss of her gorgeous deep brown hair. It revealed an expanse of creamy faultless skin that disappeared into her unbuttoned collar. She was probably the most perfect woman Merlin had ever seen.

"Just yours," Arthur retorted, having gotten to his feet. "The masses have to entertain somehow..." His mates laughed. Lingering close to them, Merlin discovered that this was Arthur's half sister. Who, not so secretly, all of Arthur's friends wanted to snog but would never dare do anything about it.

"Falcon."

Merlin jumped at Uther's voice in his ear. "Uther!"

"How was my son's day at school? How is he doing?"

"Um..." Everyone was parting ways and Arthur and Morgana began moving towards the car now. "He's doing fine, sire—"

"The truth," Uther ordered, sounding quite peeved.

"No, he is. He's smart. Teases underclassmen and flirts quite liberally," Merlin replied furtively, looking around to be sure no one could hear him.

"Teasing underclassmen?"

"Well, yes. He's quite prattish sometimes," Merlin said and then wished he could take it back.

"My son is prattish."

"I didn't quite mean—"

"It's fine. What is your location."

"We're still at the university, sire. We're getting into the car, though, so I can't talk again until we arrive back at the palace."

There was a grunt on the other end of the line. "Come find me when Arthur is back inside the palace.

"Yes, sir!" Merlin replied cheerfully, enjoying Arthur's face pinch and look around. He slid into a seat, Perci giving him a look as they rode home.

* * *

"Merlin," Uther nodded by way of greeting.

"Good afternoon, your majesty." He gave an awkward bow, but Uther waved a hand, dispensing with the formality.

"You are here for protection. And while I know you've been trained in protocol and proper interactive responses, I would like to dispense with the need for that between us. This does not make you more than you are, understand, but it is is simply to speed things along. I do not want to have long meetings concerning my son, however, if there is something I wish to know, you will come and debrief me on it. Similarly, if there is something that you feel I should know about my son, you will either tell me over the headset, or you will tell me that you wish to speak to me in private about something concerning Arthur. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Excellent."

"Isn't it a bit like spying?"

"Of course it is," Uther replied as if Merlin were mentally challenged.

"Oh." He shrugged, really wanting to get out of the practical trainers and suit jacket.

"Now. What did mean 'prattish'?"

Merlin flushed. "S-sorry... I just meant..."

"Speak up. Be clear."

"He's rather unkind to those around him that he doesn't see fit to be in his presence or worthy of his attention."

Uther blinked. "I beg your pardon."

Making a small noise in the back of his throat, Merlin leaned forward earnestly. "You asked for honesty!"

"I did," Uther mused, leaning back in his chair. "Very well."

Was that a dismissal? "Um..."

"Go on. Keep up your work."

"Oh. Yes. Sire." And left.

* * *

The rest of the week passed similarly, Merlin following Arthur around his classes, nudging him in the halls whenever he set his eyes on a younger classman. Teasing him as an invisible voice when no one else would hear. Pretty soon he'd look a little crazy. Merlin grinned to himself, leaning back in the desk chair in Arthur's economics class, feet up on the desk. He closed his eyes, nothing really going on. Arthur was doodling in his notebook. Bored. And the rest of the small lecture was obediently taking notes. He let out a sigh and immediately shrieked as the chair fell backwards sending him tumbling to the floor. As startled glances looked his way, he changed into a fly, lifting himself up towards the ceiling.

Arthur was on his feet.

"Falcon? Falcon, everything alright?"

"Just fine, sire," Merlin projected, the microphone probably still on him somewhere, despite his clothes down on the floor. He magicked them invisible. "Just fine. Just... fell."

He heard Uther's groan and then the line went dead.

"—just a chair. Relax everyone," the teacher was saying. "Sit back down please, Prince Arthur."

Arthur glared around before retaking his seat. "I thought I heard someone shriek also..." he muttered.

One of the other nearby students nodded, but Arthur already wasn't paying attention.

Merlin sighed at the near-miss and then settled on the top of the desk next to Arthur, wondering how on earth he was going to get dressed again. Invisibility didn't do anything to make him feel more comfortable about redressing in a room full of people.

In the end, he waited until the class was finished, everyone had left and then redressed as quickly as possible before running after the prince. Thank goodness it was Friday.

* * *

Saturday, Merlin was ordered to follow Arthur every waking moment. That meant it was just more convenient to sleep in his room. So the couch it was. As fate would have it, Arthur's couch was more comfortable than his own cot, so he slept soundly for the first night since he started his service and didn't dream.

However, when Arthur groaned and stumbled out of bed at 10:42, Merlin was up and following him. Until he came to the closed door of the loo. Then he shook his head, realised his surroundings, and went back to a chair.

Apparently, on the weekends, Arthur liked to play video games, procrastinate on his school work, and then hang out with his friends and the posse of girls that followed him in hopes of a royal engagement.

"These girls are idiots," Merlin muttered, sitting close to Arthur as they all piled into a limo on the way to a fancy restaurant for lunch.

"I know," Arthur muttered darkly before throwing a charming smile at one of the girls as he helped her in.

"Then why do you hang out with them?"

"Because it—" He frowned and looked up, around, cursed, then dragged a hand over his face. "Now I really am going mad..."

Merlin bit his lip to keep from laughing. Perhaps this job wouldn't be so dull after all.

* * *

It really wasn't dull when the prince passed tipsy and went on to pissed at the restaurant. The girls were all over him, and Merlin's eyes couldn't take it all in because he was supposed to be making sure that there were no snipers and no people of the magical persuasion to harm the prince. Who was doing a fairly good job of attempting to harm himself. Merlin swore and gave the prince a little push so he wouldn't fall over as he balanced drunkenly on the chair, holding a knife aloft like a sword.

"An' then! Then I stab the dragon in s'eye! 'E bellows'n swipes at me, but I leap!" And he lept off the chair, stumbling slightly. "But 'm too quick, you see..." He pulled what he must have thought was a cunning smile, but really just looked drugged, and then skulked behind one of the raptly-listening girls. "I dodged 'round him and got 'im in the underbelly. Blood flowed over me, hot 'n nasty."

The girls squealed and made disgusted faces, while Arthur caught Perci's eye and winked.

The imposing man merely gave him a tight smile. Merlin was extremely thankful for the isolated room the restaurant gave them.

"Shouldn't we...stop him?" Merlin asked, sidling up alongside the other body guard.

"How might you suggest that?" Percival asked dryly. "He's got a temper when he's angry."

"Really?" Merlin couldn't help himself as the grin spread widely. "That's even better..."

"Falcon, what are you—" He shook his head, and Merlin took it as a cue that it was entirely okay with him, seeing as he made no move to stop him.

Arthur was leaning against the table, trying to look suave as only a 19-year old drunk could. A quiet whisper and the table tipped slightly, one of the full glasses of beer conveniently flipping all over the front of his shirt and trousers.

"Shit!" Arthur brushed at the liquid, effectively making it worse. He grinned at the ladies and then shrugged. "Sorry. I'll have t'go 'n change."

They cooed and protested, frowning and making puppy-dog eyes that Arthur easily ignored. "Can' be wet rest of th'day. 'S uncomer—uncomtort...able. Uncomfortable!"

"You're completely pissed," Merlin said with no small amount of amusement.

"'S right I am!"

"Your highness," Perci moved in, took his elbow. "I think it might be time to go."

Arthur snorted, swaying. "Of _course_ 's time to go. You an idiot? 'M all wet..."

Merlin laughed behind his hand at the despondent look the prince threw at his body guard.

"An' whoever thinks'funny, 's really not, mate. It smells."

* * *

Arthur was right about one thing. It definitely _did_ smell. The girls were given cab fare, the restaurant paid for its trouble, and the prince piled into his limo. He reeked of beer. He hummed and jabbered all the way home, giving Merlin the impression that this was something he did. The jabbering. Not the drinking. That didn't seem too out of the ordinary.

When they got home, the prince bathed (under supervision in case he accidentally drowned himself) and was put down to bed to sleep off his drunkenness. Merlin sat back the entire time and grinned. It was Kay's turn to laugh, however, when Merlin was the one who had to stay with the prince "in case he needs something and decides to hurt himself in the process."

There were good things in store for England if this was the faith and trust they put in their prince.

But Arthur slept clear through to Sunday morning, snoring and tossing like a small child. He pleaded off church in favour of finishing some school work, which pleased Uther.

And to Merlin's surprise, he followed through. So while the rest of the royal ensemble was at church, Arthur worked and Merlin discovered the advantages of his position. Being invisible, he could move things around in Arthur's room that would annoy him later. He could also cover the prince in every protective and alert spell he could think of before jaunting off to the library. Borrowing a few books, he returned to find the prince's eyes more on a football game than his essay.

"You really should be working," he whispered, pleased when Arthur jerked and looked around suspiciously before returning to his work.

The other advantage was that, most days, he was too busy to even think about his former life and the consequences his family and friends were dealing with.

* * *

"Falcon." Uther's voice echoed in his ear, startling him like it always did. "I need you to report to me in forty-five minutes. Kay and Percival will take over surveillance."

Merlin nodded and then remembered Uther couldn't see him, so he muttered, "Yes, your majesty."

"Your highness?"

Arthur didn't bother to look up. "Hullo, Kay."

"How's your school work going?"

"Just fine. I'm working on my speech for public speaking."

Kay nodded and then gestured behind his back for Merlin to go.

Wandering a bit until he was needed by Uther, he glanced up at the portraits on the wall. One featured a smiling Uther with a beautiful woman, Merlin assumed to be his wife. An arm curled possessively around her waist, their hands linked in front of them. They were obviously in love. Merlin smiled, moving onto a baby Arthur, his eyes wide and watery like he'd just cried before the photo had been taken.

Eventually, Merlin made his way to Uther's office. He began opening the door before he knocked and then waited for Uther to call, "Come."

"Hullo. Your majesty."

Uther didn't look at him, scribbling something on the papers before him. "You were officially executed yesterday. Merlin Emrys is dead."

The ground dropped out from beneath him and Merlin flailed for the back of the chair in front of him to hold him up. "O-oh..."

"Sit if you must."

He fell heavily into the chair, hands shaking as he clasped them tightly. "I...didn't... I didn't know..." he whispered.

"Thus I felt it necessary to inform you."

Some part of him felt gone. Now he was really no one. He didn't exist. Forever the invisible man. "Um... My letters. God, did you send my letters?"

"Your mother and friends will receive them," Uther confirmed.

Silence.

Merlin stood. "Um. D'you mind if I...?" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, trying to play it off casual. "Just take some...time."

"Kay and Percival are looking over Arthur."

"Right. Um. I'm going to go," he half-croaked.

"Be sure you are ready to report Monday morning," Uther said firmly.

Taking the unspoken directive that he had the rest of the day off, Merlin bolted. Already invisible, it wasn't hard for him to find an empty room. It was only after he locked the door and made it such that people would pass on by, not noticing it, that he allowed himself to collapse in the corner and cry. The deep sobs shook his shoulders and the hot tears streamed down his cheeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Weeks turned like pages of a book, the thought of only three people knowing that he existed a constant sobering thought.

"Falcon. I need to see you," Uther demanded, the weather turning colder.

So he made his way to Uther's office, passing by the now-familiar portraits, knocking as he entered. The small discourtesies to Uther were a petty revenge, but they made him feel better at least. "You asked for me?"

"Yes. As I'm sure you are well aware, Arthur's birthday approaches. The fête is to be a large affair, and there are always entirely too many opportunities for would-be assassins and..._others_ to take a chance on his life. So I want you one step behind him at all times. I would also like you to set up some sort of...alarm system at the door for weapons to be recognised by the security guards, something besides the usual. I want this to be something that security can use _without_ know it is..._different_."

Merlin almost smiled at the way Uther refused to say the word 'magic.' "Yes, Sire. I'll have to come up with something. I'm not quite sur—"

"You shall figure it out." He waved the concern away. "I would also like you to reinforce the windows if possible against bullet entry. Also, set up alarms for yourself, so that you will know if anyone like yourself enters. I want you to be on the _highest_ alert. Do I make myself clear, Falcon?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Good. Understand that Arthur's life is your highest priority. If even at the cost of your own. Am I clear?"

"Always, your majesty."

"Good."

The silence entered again. Merlin turned to leave.

"One more thing."

He looked back over his shoulder.

"Good job."

Merlin felt his eyebrows shoot up. "Th-thank you. Sire?"

"I'm sure you have preparations like the rest of us. Be on your way."

And he was. Merlin chewed a thumbnail as he strode back down the hallway. Obviously Arthur was precious to Uther. While it might not be apparent in every glance, exchange, directive, or conversation, it was there in every touch, every act behind the scenes, every plan of action concerning the boy. And that made his life harder. Merlin had _no_ doubt that if Arthur's life were lost, Merlin would merely be shot and dumped aside without even a pang of guilt. So how was he to pull off all of these demands Uther had listed. Passing by the library, he paused. It was doubtful that there would be anything useful, but he double-checked the card catalogue anyway. The old tongue had always come easily to him; sometimes he knew things without really needing to _know _them. But there were other things that he needed to know—spells. And those were things he had to learn. Surprisingly, the library had two books concerning magic, even though Merlin was quite certain that there wouldn't be any spells in it. But research wouldn't hurt.

He strolled back towards Arthur's room, pausing in front of an empty room. Looking around, he grinned. It was perfect. Casting the same do-not-notice-me spell on it, he barricaded himself in the room for practice.

It was much later that night when Uther ordered him to follow Arthur who was leaving to see a film with his friends. All the same, he shrunk the book to fit in his pocket and took it with.

The next day, Merlin went to Uther with the request of a laptop that he might do research in order to better protect Arthur. Uther's gaze was flinty and he steepled his fingers.

"I'll think on it."

"Okay," Merlin replied, trying hard not to sound disappointed.

Uther sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Falcon, you have surprised me."

"I have?"

"Yes. You have been..." The man massaged his temple, searching for the word. "Faithful. While I know sorcerers are tricky beings, neglecting to mention their true intent or, as it is, the fine print, you have asked for surprisingly little."

"I haven't been given much of a choice," Merlin murmured, looking at his feet. "However, I'm alive. So, for that, I'm thankful. And I have a job. Doubly thankful."

Uther nodded. "Of course. A king cannot govern without some leniency lest he be seen as a tyrant. That has never extended to sorcerers. However." He looked at Merlin until he met his eyes. "However, you are reputedly the best. And you have had no prior offences. So I am confronted with...the issue of protecting my son."

Waiting, Merlin nodded.

"Which you have done. But you have not been put to the test. Of course, you know the consequences. Yet I've heard nothing from Kay or Percival about your negligence."

Guilt niggled Merlin about the time he left him for a visit to the library. He_ was_ well-protected, Merlin reasoned.

"However, the idea of giving you access to the internet and a computer has me at a crossroads. I can either trust you to obey my orders of not contacting the outside world or leaving any sort of evidence that you were there. Or I can simply refuse. Which one would be easier."

Chancing to meet Uther's eyes once more, he bit his lip. "Trust?"

Uther arched an eyebrow.

Merlin dropped his eyes again. "Sorry. Humour. Defence mechanism... I understand, Sire. It's fine. It would be more helpful, but I can get by without it."

"You are dismissed," Uther sighed.

And that was the end of that. So Merlin hid in his magic room and practised.

* * *

What Merlin expected was Arthur's reluctance to do anything exactly as his father said. What Merlin didn't expect was finding Morgana in his magic room, making out with Gwaine. What Merlin expected was Arthur to be furious about that. What Merlin didn't expect was the gently-loved laptop on his cot.

Approaching it with a sort of reverence, he lifted it and settled in the chair, curling his legs up beneath him. It started up slow, but the connection was good. As he searched through bogus web pages about magic, a morbid sort of curiosity crept over him, leading him to the Guardian homepage. Flicking back some weeks for the main titles, he searched his name with little results. A more general result led to a wide variety of articles, some slandering his name, some heralding Uther as a murderer. His eyes scanned the words quickly. One from the Morning Star said:

"_Private execution announced for most feared, and respected underground, alleged sorcerer, Merlin Emrys, Saturday 28 July. Arrested after an altercation outside of a local drug store, Ealdor Med, Emrys, 22, was accused of treason. The reason for the charges is unclear, however, as neither King Uther nor Hunith Emrys, Merlin's mother, are willing to comment. Witnesses can place Emrys at the scene of the robbery at Ealdor Med, eyes apparently glowing gold as he manipulated with ease the robbers' vehicles and weapons._

_Hunith, on not seeing her boy home that night, says, "I knew he'd been caught! He was just a boy! He's just trying to help—to make our town safer. To protect people. That's what he does. What he's _always_ done. And now he's dead." She cries into the shoulder of a young girl, Gwen, one of Emrys' best mates. "Merlin had a good heart," Gwen, 21, says. She shakes her head and pats Hunith on the shoulder. "He always tried to help everyone, despite the risk to himself. I'm not really surprised that his magic got him caught." Another close friend of Merlin, Will Cane, 22, was found and asked for comments. He politely declined at first and then changed his mind, saying that Merlin was "only a good-hearted bloke who wanted happiness for everyone. And you took that out of the world." This appeared to be all that he would say, however, when questioned he replied with some bitterness, "You don't know what you've done. I was there when they took him. You don't know what the world will miss without him."_

_There is no knowledge of whether or not a trial was conducted, but there is video evidence, appearing un-doctored, of Emrys' handiwork. It is frightening to behold and gives the viewer pause to believe that King Uther's edict of banning magic is correct. In respect to his memory, farewell in light of your dubious execution. In response to magic? Protection for the people, hail King Uther."_

So that's what they thought of him... It was fair, he supposed. Poor Gwen. Poor mum. His 23rd birthday had been coming up. She had been bothering him about having a big party when all he wanted was her, Gwen, and Will. Now, all of that unwanted, negative attention because of him. He was sure Hunith had more screaming fights about Merlin's morality with the press than she needed. He sighed and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. Unimportant. What was important was Arthur. And _his_ life.

Two hours later and more fruitless searching, he finally stumbled across a website entitled, simply, The Spellbook. It, apparently, was legitimate, and it wasn't long before he had what he needed. And not only for Uther's requests. There were other things he could learn from this website. Bookmarking it, he wrote the words down on a piece of paper before retreating to his magic room for practice.

* * *

By the end of a week and a half, Merlin was able to bring a finished product to Uther. It looked like a regular body-wand scanner, but there was a display that registered any items that could be used as weapons, foreign substances and magic.

Uther was pleased.

They tested it immediately, Kay using it on Merlin who had concealed two small knives, hemlock, and obviously his magic. It binged on all four accounts.

Uther was exceptionally pleased. He even smiled. Clapped Merlin on the back.

So Merlin was pleased. He headed back towards Arthur's room, pausing at his own to change into a t-shirt to monitor Arthur for the rest of the afternoon and evening. Arthur was in the bathroom, showering when he slipped into the prince's room.

Merlin sighed and moved over by the window, cursing when a tall stack of Arthur's papers fell off the opposite side of the table he bumped with his hip. He bent to clean them up, trying to reorder the pages. "Shit. Arthur, can't you use folder or binders like everyone else?"

The bathroom door opened, and Arthur padded into the room. "Who's there?"

Merlin froze and stopped rustling the papers. He mostly behind the table, so Arthur wouldn't be able to see him. Never mind the fact that he was invisible.

"I know you're there. Come out."

Merlin heard the drawer next to the prince's bed open and the click of a gun being cocked.

"If you come out now, I promise I won't shoot you. You'll just be arrested, of course. But you're breaking into the crown prince's bedroom. So you deserve it."

Merlin swallowed and turned himself into a dog, just as Arthur burst into sight. He wuffed at Arthur's particularly befuddled expression, pawing at the papers just to make sure the prince knew what was making the noise. Merlin would be killed if Uther suspected him of turning his son mad.

Arthur heaved a sigh and ran a hand over his face. "Scared me half to death, dog."

Merlin trotted forward, unsteady on his new four legs. Dog. Of course he'd chosen to be a dog. It was a bit disconcerting to see Arthur so high up.

"What are you doing in here?" The boy crouched down and extended a hand.

Merlin sniffed it, this being his first time touching the prince. Well. He was clean. So he licked it.

"You had better not be a gift from Morgana."

Merlin blinked at him.

"That girl gets me in more trouble sometimes..." Looking around, Arthur stood again. "I suppose you're probably hungry. If you're an escapee from the kennel, then I suppose... But you don't look familiar... some sort of retriever?" Arthur moved to his desk, flicking on his laptop and typing away quickly. "A curly coated retriever is what you look like. All soft dark fur." Arthur smiled and Merlin trotted after him, jumping so his front paws were on Arthur's leg. He wanted to see too. "You want to see too?" Arthur all but read his mind, smiling wider. "See? That's you."

Not an unattractive dog. He was alright. Merlin woofed.

"Hungry? Do you want some food?" Arthur ruffled his ears. "Should we go find you some food?"

Merlin backed away and jumped on Arthur's bed.

"Hey! I never said you could be up there. Get off."

Merlin laid down and merely stared.

"Oh. So you think you can do whatever you want?" the prince folded his arms and fixed him with a glare.

It was a lot less intimidating when Merlin was a dog. Even if he was the main focus of it for the first time. He woofed, stood, turned a circle and then plopped down again. He _would_ win this.

"I swear you're laughing at me," Arthur said, but crawled up next to the dog anyway. "Well. As long as you behave, then you can stay. I have work to do. So be sure you're not a bother. Understand?"

Brilliant.

* * *

Merlin stirred as he heard the heavy tromp of footsteps coming down the hall to collect Arthur for dinner. Arthur who was currently asleep. Merlin who was currently a dog. He crept off the bed and changed back into a human, throwing his clothes on. Giving Arthur a light shove, he moved to stand over by the window when Kay, Percival, and Bedivere knocked lightly before entering to Arthur's somewhat hoarse "Come!"

"It's time for dinner, sire. Your father requested your presence."

Arthur looked around, feeling the bed beside him. "Did you see..."

"Lose something, your highness?"

Arthur frowned and then shook his head. "No. No, never mind."

Kay arched an eyebrow but said nothing, glancing at Merlin who shrugged with his best expression of innocence.

"Very well. Let's go."

Merlin wandered into the dining room, automatically checking the windows and feeling about for magic. Nothing. As usual. It was fairly boring to expect something and constantly come up with nothing. But, Merlin supposed, it meant that he didn't have to worry. Perching himself on the window-seat, he watched as the servants came out with the plates of food and set them before his royal highness and royal highness jr. Then came the water. Then came the wine. Merlin could have used a glass of wine. He looked at it longingly, moving away from the window as his skin began to goose pimple. It only got worse as he moved closer to the table.

Uther looked at him like he was a moron as Merlin moved around trying to find a warmer spot in the room.

Arthur lifted the glass to take a sip of wine and Merlin froze. The wine. Lashing out with magic, the wine glass exploded away from the king and prince, so an astonished Arthur was left holding only the stem.

"What the hell?" Arthur yelled, jumping to his feet and dropping the stem like it was on fire.

Uther was also on his feet, glancing briefly at Merlin who was panting and quivery, realising the close call.

"What the hell was that!"

"I...I don't know." Uther glared hard at Merlin.

"Poison," Merlin mouthed.

Uther's brows went up and he moved to put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Someone get in here and clean this mess up! Arthur, don't worry about it. I have no idea what happened. Perhaps you just held the glass wrong."

"Held the glass wrong," Arthur echoed flatly. "How the—"

"The wrong pressures. They were old crystal."

"Well it shouldn't bloody well explode in my hand, now, should it!"

"Sit down, Arthur, we'll get you a new glass. Drink the water for now."

He motioned to Bedivere and whispered something in his ear which Merlin caught as 'have the glass and wine tested; use gloves so not to smear fingerprints.'

The calamity over, Merlin sank to the floor, staring. A grin began to spread across his lips. He knew it was poison. Knew it. And he'd just saved Arthur! He'd proven himself! Hopefully. If the glance Uther threw him as they sat again had anything to say.

It wasn't until the next afternoon that Uther called Merlin to him.

"Yes, sire?"

"It seems you were correct. The glass was poisoned."

Merlin smiled. "Good!" Promptly un-smiled. "No, not good! I meant! I meant good that I didn't blow it up for no reason! Good that I saved him!"

The corner of Uther's mouth quirked. "I know what you meant. And I wanted to ask you how you know."

"I didn't."

"You didn't?" The king's brow clouded dangerously.

"Well, I mean—instinct? I didn't know _exactly_...I more like... had a feeling." He spread his hands as if that explained everything.

Uther made a humming noise and then clasped his fingers in front of him, giving Merlin The Stare. "I wanted to thank you."

"Prove myself then?" He grinned, rather proud of himself.

"Falcon."

His grin faltered and dropped, straightening his stance. "Sorry, sire."

"You've done a good job. Now return to my son."

"Yes, your majesty."

* * *

Arthur's birthday came up very suddenly in between guarding him at school, playing at being his dog, and practising magic every spare moment he came upon. The last, Merlin was quite proud of his progress. The former, Merlin was glad to see Arthur pick on others less. Of course, that may have had something to do with the negative reinforcement. When Arthur picked on people, bad things happened to him shortly thereafter.

The second thing, however, Merlin was glad to know. Shortly after the poison debacle, Arthur took up with a girl. Sophie. She was blonde, and she was a bitch. Manipulative, and it was clear to Merlin that Arthur didn't see it. Sitting by the prince's desk after school, the girl had come home with him and it was clear her intentions when she entered the room and undid two buttons at the top of her shirt. Even more painfully obvious when she pushed Arthur back onto his bed. And then proceeded to take his shirt off.

As awkward as it would have been to watch the act, Merlin didn't even want to listen. So he behaved as a dog. And barked. And barked. And ran in circles, pulling at Arthur's socked foot, shaking it like he wanted to play.

"God, your dog is annoying..." Sophie muttered. But she stood up again and Arthur apologised, looking somewhat embarrassed.

The next time Sophie was over with dubious plans, Merlin jumped on the bed, nosing his way into the couple's kisses. Sophie was effectively disgusted.

The third time, he settled himself at her feet and made disgusting licking noises until she was completely turned off. Arthur only glared at him, but looked secretly amused when Sophie stalked out.

The fourth time, Merlin wormed his way between them as they lay on Arthur's bed.

"God! Arthur! This dog of yours is the most effective cock-block I've ever _seen_! If you don't want to have sex with me, then just say it!" Sophie yelled, jerking her shirt back on.

Merlin cuddled closer to Arthur, the latter obligingly rubbing his belly. "Sorry, Soph. Looks like it's not going to work out.

Mission accomplished, Merlin glared at her on the way out.

* * *

The party started at seven. Arthur was turning 20. The large ballroom and the lesser side-rooms of Camelot palace were crammed. Merlin stayed one step behind him, resorting to pushing people aside when his don't-come-near-me spell wasn't strong enough for his worshippers. Uther trusted him with this position. The strongest spells that he could utter were protecting the prince and he'd cast his magic about like a net to sense and alert him to anything magical. The irony hadn't escaped him that he was fighting against his own kind. But any who wanted to kill Arthur were abusing their abilities. And if they were going about making a change by killing, well. That was all wrong.

Merlin couldn't help but smile, however, watching the prince in the midst of all the hullabaloo. The golden child in the limelight. He was smiling and laughing like the prince he was, being gracious with gift, and generous with his time distribution. Times like these, Merlin could almost admire the boy. Gwaine appeared with Morgana, clasping the prince in a manly display of affection before Morgana leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. The couple laughed as Arthur cracked a joke at their expense.

"Falcon. Status?" Uther's voice was taut with stress and worry.

"No problems so far!" Merlin chirped. "Everything is A-ok. I haven't sensed any intruders and no magic."

He heard the king's hiss on the other end. "Watch your tongue."

He winced. "Sorry, sire." And bumped into Arthur.

"Careful, mate," Arthur said without looking.

"Sorry," Merlin muttered.

"And poisons?" the king prompted.

Searching along his net for harmful substances, Merlin shook his head. "Nope. Nothing except for cigarettes. And a couple people have flasks. But that's all."

"Flasks?" Uther's voice was dry with amusement.

"As near as I can tell."

"As if there isn't enough liquor at this function..."

Merlin laughed. "Right, sire."

"Very well. Keep me updated hourly."

"Of course."

Arthur turned, a frown on his face. "Who..." He shook his head and moved passed Gwaine and Morgana.

Circulating the rest of the room took forever as it was regularly shifting and had new additions.

"You know, if you're thirsty," Merlin began, "get something to drink."

Arthur nodded absently, heading over to the long table stocked with enough food to feed Merlin's village for possibly a week. Opulence. Merlin curled a lip. After a drink and more greetings, Arthur returned to his father's side for the speech. Uther thanked the guests for their attendance in honour of his son's 20th year. He thanked them for their good will and faithfulness and support. Then Morgana gave a short speech full of really entertaining anecdotes about Arthur and his childhood. Arthur glowered at her, but Merlin could tell it was full of affection. He would have done the same to her. Arthur stood to take the microphone and thank people himself when Uther intercepted.

"Gaius?" Uther prompted smoothly.

An older man stepped forward, a pillow in his hands with a crown resting atop it.

"I would like everyone here to bear witness as Prince Arthur becomes the Crown Prince."

Arthur's face bespoke shock, though really that only meant that his eyes widened and his lips pressed together. "Father..."

"Prince Arthur of England. Please kneel before your king."

Rooted to the spot a moment, Merlin had to jab him in the back before the prince moved quickly to kneel before Uther on the steps of the raised dias. He bowed his head before his king, leaning over his knee.

"Do you, Arthur Pendragon, solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of this Kingdom and it's dominions according to the statutes, customs and laws laid down by your noble forebears?" Uther asked, voice firm and loud in the silent hall.

"I do, sire."

"Do you promise to exercise mercy and justice in your deeds and judgements?"

"I do, sire."

"And do you swear allegiance to England for now and for as long as you live?"

"I, Arthur Pendragon, do pledge life and limb to your service and to the protection of this kingdom and it's peoples. " Arthur intoned reverently.

"Now being of age and being the heir apparent, you shall hence-forth become Crown Prince of England."

Arthur stood, leaned over his father's hand, kissing it and then Uther lifted the prince's hand as Arthur turned and faced the crowd. Arthur bowed to the people and a cheer of "Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!" rose up among them.

Merlin, hands slipped into his pocket, smiled.

"I present you, the Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon of England," Uther announced, directing his son back to his peers and dignitaries there.

Arthur nodded solemnly and walked down the stairs, the crown still resting upon his head. Morgana came over and teased him immediately, though Merlin could tell, could just tell, that Arthur was pleased as punch. "Morgana, _nothing_ you can say will spoil my mood."

She grinned wickedly. "Oh really? What if I told you that Gwaine and I snogged in your favourite window seat."

"Morgana! Dammit all. I'm glad you're so good at making lives miserable."

"Only yours, dear, only yours." She patted his cheek.

"I hate you."

"Now, you don't meant that."

"Emphatically. I hate you."

"Only until you need something."

"Go away," Arthur ordered, giving his half-sister a push. "Go snog your boyfriend or something. _Not_ somewhere I like to be, _please_."

Morgana tittered and ignored the prince's teasing, returning to Gwaine, who was playing wallflower. Merlin's attention returned to the prince as the same goose-pimple feeling of the poisoned glass incident returned. He scanned the room quickly. "Sire..."

"Falcon?"

"I think something bad is about to happen..." He said quietly, hoping it didn't alarm the king too much.

"What is it?" Uther demanded immediately, and from the corner of his eye, he noticed Uther standing and scanning the room as well.

Merlin backed up against Arthur who turned with an irritable expression.

"People keep bumping into me..."

"Prince Arthur!" A lady with a microphone happened to get close.

"I'm sorry, miss, but the media was specifically told not to bring equipment inside the building," Arthur ordered.

"Yes, I just wanted to know what your father must be feeling."

The question caught Arthur off guard and someone from behind the media person lunged forward, a knife in hand.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, grabbing the prince's shoulders and yanking him backwards and thrusting the person back onto the floor, pinning him there. He stood in the middle of the panic, only the DJ's music for noise.

"Falcon, get out of there. Now."

Merlin looked around, eyes wide and wild.

"Get. Away."

The other guards and security were already muscling through the crowd, Bedivere the closest to the focal point.

"_Falcon_."

Merlin swallowed and ducked to the side of the room, still close enough to hear.

"Sire! Sire are you alright?"

Arthur groaned, shaking his head as he sat up. "Fine. I'm fine. What the hell happened?"

Kay arrived and helped the prince stand. Percival had reached the attacker and had him on his knees, hands tied up behind his back. "You were attacked."

"Yeah, but then then it all happened so quickly. I was suddenly on my back and he was..." He gestured towards the man. "Over there."

"It's understandable, sire. It's a traumatising experience," Kay diminished.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I'm hardly traumatised, Kay. I'm _fine_. I just don't understand what physically happened. Someone saved me. And it wasn't you. That wasn't your voice that yelled," he said more quietly so Merlin had to strain to hear.

"One of the guests, I'm sure."

"Kay, you're hiding something. I want to know what it is," Arthur said as he was led to his father to make sure he was in one piece. The old man was hovering still on the dias, wringing his hands. Merlin skulked along the outside of the room towards the stage. He needed to make sure that Arthur was okay too. Wherever that adrenaline-induced strength came from, it still had his heart pounding.

"Arthur!" Uther grasped his shoulders. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine, father. There's nothing wrong with me, except for perhaps a bruise from landing on my bum," Arthur said drily, sounding all sorts of secret amused.

"Arthur, you shouldn't joke. This was an assassination attempt," Uther's brow furrowed. The man was being led away, presumably to the dark cells in which Merlin found himself on his arrival. He shuddered.

"Well, I'm fine! I really am. I have _no _idea what happened over there, but everything's fine; I assume you're leading the man away to question and torture while I have the rest of my party. With increased security."

Uther's eyes narrowed. "I'm glad you can treat your life with such levity, Arthur."

The boy sighed. "Father... You know that's not what I mean."

"Never mind," Uther said, waving him away, choosing not to talk about feelings.

"Father..."

"Go have fun, Arthur. This is _your _party, after all."

Arthur nodded stiffly and returned to mingling and the dancing. It didn't last long, however, and Arthur somehow found a way to sneak out of the room and onto one of the balconies. Merlin followed. Pulling out a cigarette, Arthur lit it up and scowled out into the darkness. "Stupid."

"What's stupid?" Merlin asked before thinking.

The prince swore and the cigarette fell down into the bushes. He turned quickly, looking for the source of the voice. "Hello?"

"Hello," Merlin replied.

"Where the deuce are you, mate?"

"I'm... here." He waffled between disembodied voice or disguise. The latter would most likely get him killed, but the former gave him no identity.

Arthur fixed a look at nothing in particular. "Going to have to be a bit more specific that that. I know I'm not _that_ pissed. And I don't hear voices."

"No, I'm real," Merlin replied, unable to help the despondency leak through.

"Are you..." Arthur hesitated, looking around, out into the hall. "Are you _invisible_?"

"Why?"

He stood straighter. "Magic's not allowed in Camelot. Hell, magic's not allowed in England. So you must be pretty fucking nutters in order to chance it."

"No. I'm just cursed," Merlin lied.

"That's the same as treason," the prince retorted, leaning back on the balcony rail casually. "And if you're here to kill me, I'll scream."

"How terrifying. A scream. And if they can't see me, then they can't find me."

"True," Arthur admitted.

Silence.

"So what's stupid?"

"My father. He's ridiculously protective. Won't let me do anything that he doesn't deem 'okay.'"

"Isn't that what all fathers are supposed to do?"

"Yes, but there's just a _bit _more pressure when you're now the Crown Prince of England," he smirked, gesturing at the crown.

"Mm-hm."

"You're a snarky one, aren't you?"

"And you're a royal prat. So I suppose we're even." He laughed at Arthur's disbelieving expression.

"You can't talk to me like that."

"Well you're stuck without a face to blame it on," Merlin needled. "And if you say you were insulted by someone invisible, they'll think their dear golden prince has gone a bit—woo-hoo!—nutters."

"Lovely. Stuck with a haunt." Arthur turned away and leaned out over the landscape, pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

"I thought you didn't smoke?"

"Every so often," the prince muttered.

"It's bad for you."

"Not if I only do it once in a while."

Merlin snorted. "Right. I think that's the line all addicts use."

"You're a charm, invisible man. I'm _so_ glad I have you for company."

"Better than all of your admirers," Merlin quipped, almost enjoying himself.

"At least they don't give me a headache."

"That's probably just the beer and fag, mate."

Arthur snorted and let his head drop back, flicking the cigarette over his shoulder into the bushes. "Well now you've gone and ruined it for me."

"Of course. Because I only care about your health and what-not."

"What do you even know of me?" the prince inquired sharply, returning his gaze towards Merlin's location. "Who are you? What are you even doing here?"

"I've gotten lost," the elder said loftily.

"Great excuse." He rolled his eyes before fixing them somewhere out across London. "This party is invitation only."

"Believe me... I've an invitation."

"Written in invisible ink?" Arthur retorted archly.

"Clever little prince," Merlin teased.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "What do you even want?"

"Nothing. Just some open air," Merlin shrugged despite the fact that the other man couldn't see him.

"Well, I'm going back."

"Go ahead."

"Don't follow me."

"Wouldn't want to."

Arthur snorted and hesitantly walked back into the hallway, Percival seeing him immediately.

"Your highness."

"I'm fine, Percival." He cast a look back in Merlin's direction.

Percival followed it and his brows knit as he saw Merlin. "Yes, sire."

"Well, come on," Arthur called, a sigh in his voice as he brushed passed Percival and back into the ballroom.

"He seen you?"

"No," Merlin said quietly to Percival. "I'm invisible. I don't exist."

"Right... Well, just make sure it stays that way."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Of course it will. If I show myself, I'm dead. Literally."

Percival's lips quirked into an almost-smile. "Right."

"Plus, I have brownie points. I saved his life!"

"Don't think that'll endear you too much..."


	3. Chapter 3

The party ended. Arthur was 20. Crown Prince. Merlin was given some spending money. And now things were back to normal. Mostly.

"What does 'parsimonious' mean?" Arthur asked.

Merlin blinked.

"You there? Invisible George?"

"My name's not 'George.'"

"I knew you were there."

"I don't understand why you're not more wigged out by this," Merlin replied, folding himself into the window seat.

"If I'm going to be crazy, then I may as well make use of it, right?"

"Frugal."

"Beg your pardon?"

"'Parsimonious' means 'frugal.'"

"Right. Thanks then." The prince went back to ignoring him. As was his new method of dealing with the issue.

"I'm not in your imagination, you know," Merlin snapped.

"Right then."

"If I were, I would know what you're thinking. Which I don't. Nor do I want to. If you even do that bit. Thinking."

"Watch your tongue—"

"Or else?" he taunted. "You'll cut out my invisible tongue?"

"Nothing so crass," the prince replied mildly. "I'll just ignore you until my imagination decides that you're not needed."

Merlin snorted. "Of course. Because that's what you do with all of your problems—ignore them until they've gone. Worked so well with Vivianne, I recall."

"Hey!" Arthur looked up. "How do you know that."

"I thought I was your _subconscious_."

Arthur glowered. "Shut up."

"Are you my shadow?"

"Hardly."

"Are you my conscience."

"You wouldn't beat on that kid from your history class if I were."

"He deserves it." Arthur shrugged, sitting up to look towards Merlin's voice. "Are you my supernatural bodyguard?"

Merlin froze. "Not likely."

Arthur frowned. "Wait. You are, aren't you."

"Um. No. No I'm really not."

"Yes you are. I remember at my party—who pushed me out of the way when I was going to get stabbed?"

"Certainly wasn't me. I wouldn't want to touch you," Merlin deflected quickly, not wanting Arthur to follow this line of thought.

"Everyone wants to touch me."

"Only because you're the prince. If you weren't, no one would look at you twice."

Arthur leaned back into the pillows of his bed. "Thanks for that." He picked his laptop back up and settled it on his lap.

Merlin immediately felt bad. "Sorry. I didn't mean to go that far."

Arthur didn't reply.

Merlin sighed and smacked his palm against his forehead. "I'm sorry. Listen, I didn't really mean to say that."

"It's fine," Arthur said with deceptive casualness.

"Forgive me."

"I don't need to forgive my imagination."

Merlin glared and turned himself into a fly to crawl beneath the door. Kay and Bedivere were just outside the room and down the hall a bit anyway. Secreting himself away into his magic room, he threw up shields and practise exploding things.

* * *

When he'd tired himself out, he returned to Arthur's room as a dog and curled up next to his side while he napped. He didn't bother moving when there was a knock at the door. Stretching out, he shoved at Arthur's thigh and then plopped himself across his stomach.

"Uuff," Arthur complained.

"Sire?"

"I'm coming." He sat up and glared at Merlin. "Where did you come from? I could have used you to back me up when my conscience was making fun of me."

Merlin wuffed.

"You'll have to stay here. It's time for supper."

Crawling off the prince, he circled and curled up on Arthur's pillow.

"I sleep on that, you know," he said wryly, running fingers through his hair. "I hope you don't have flees."

He threw the dog one last glance as he walked out the door. Merlin quickly changed into a fly and disappeared around a corner ahead of Arthur and his entourage before changing back to himself and merging in. Kay glared at him. Merlin shrugged.

Dinner was more light-hearted than usual, due to Morgana's presence. She teased Arthur about everything, bringing up childhood memories that even Uther laughed at. Merlin allowed himself to snicker quietly when everyone else was laughing.

"You know," Morgana said, "I think Aunt Ygraine would be proud of you, Arthur."

Uther immediately froze and Arthur's gaze dropped to his plate. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

Morgana looked away, scowling. "Sorry," she said eventually.

Uther murmured something that was supposed to be soothing and Arthur stuffed a bite of food into his mouth. Merlin cocked his head, scooting closer. He didn't really know anything about Arthur's mother. Except that she'd died shortly after Arthur had been born. Nibbling on his lip, he made a mental note to look it up on his computer.

* * *

The opportunity happened sooner than he'd thought. Arthur was sick for the day and thus, stayed home from Uni. Merlin had grumbled enough that Kay waved him away and said to take some time off; he'd been on duty for too long anyway.

Eagerly, he took off to his room and booted up the computer, settling on his bed-cum-cot. The transformation to a more comfortable mattress had been surprisingly easy. He logged in and easily spent the next hour searching for information on Arthur's mum. All he had gleaned was that she came from the upper echelons of society, Uther courted her for a long time before marrying her, they had the most beautiful wedding, and died shortly after giving birth to Arthur, their only child.

Merlin was just about to give up after almost three hours of searching, when he stumbled across a forum that was discussing the issue. Scanning the topic briefly, his brow furrowed and he shook his head. That made no sense. Scrolling back up to the top, Merlin began reading again.

_"I heard sum rumours about Arthur's Mum. And I was just wondering if u guys knew more about it."  
_

_"She died shortly after he was born."  
_

_"I heard Queen Ygraine was barren."  
_

_"Wut! That's not possible. Then where did our lovely Arthur come from?"_

Merlin gagged.

_"King Uther made sure she had some 'help' getting preggers."  
_

_"Wat u talking about. U make no sense."  
_

_"Shut up Artlover. Coldice5 is just being careful. They're talking about 'cigam.' Spelled backwards."  
_

_"Oooooh! No way! That makes no sense. He hates... 'Cigam.'"  
_

_"Duh. That's why it's outlawed. He tried to help his wife after everything else failed. And when 'cigam' got her killed, he hated it."_

Merlin sucked in a breath and slapped the machine closed. Shit. If that were true... Then...

"Falcon, come to my office please."

Merlin jumped, catching his breath. "Yes, sire." Scrambling off his bed, he made his way to Uther's office.

"Falcon," Uther said as he entered, not bothering to look up.

"Yes, your majesty." He took his customary seat before the king.

"You know, when I entrusted you with your own computer, I expected a level of trust heretofore unseen."

Merlin found his mouth suddenly dry and his palms sweating. "Y-yes, Sire."

"Therefore, I expected a level of privacy."

ShitShitShitShit. "Sire, I-"

"If you had questions, is it not better to go to the source than to seek answers from rumour?"

"I...didn't want to overstep my-"

"Do you know why I banned magic, Falcon?"

Merlin winced. "B-because of your w-wife, Sire?"

Uther shook his head. "No. Because of pain."

"Pain?" Merlin echoed, looking up in surprise.

"Pain. I lost my wife and it has caused my family incredible pain. Arthur has grown up without a mother. I have lost the love of my life."

Merlin dropped his gaze, feeling uncomfortable with the king's admission, despite his stone-like expression.

"And this is all because the sorceress whose help I had enlisted neglected to mention that helping Ygraine get pregnant might weaken her enough to not survive the birth."

Silence.

"Now do you understand why magic is evil? Now do you understand why removing this temptation from our society is a blessing and not a punishment?" Uther's eyes bored into his miserable head, and there was nothing that Merlin could say that Uther would listen to to change mind.

"Yes, Sire."

"Good. Now I don't want to see you looking up anything more on the topic. Go."

Merlin nodded, a little ashamed and a little aghast at the thought that the king was keeping tabs on his internet usage. Figures that he would have some way to track

what Merlin was looking at. He bowed and backed out of Uther's office, the king already ignoring him.

* * *

The colder months slouched past, and the first warm day, Arthur announced to his empty (save for Merlin) room that he was going swimming. Merlin followed after the prince, wrapped up in a book. After nearly bumping into the man, he shrunk the book and put it in a pocket, frowning as he saw they were heading to the garage instead of the swimming pool. Merlin opened his mouth to say something and then gave a crooked grin as the prince crept around a corner. He was obviously trying to escape his guards. Though, Merlin thought wryly, there was no way to skirt the video cameras. They did make it to the garage unnoticed by human eye, though as they slipped out the door, Merlin acting quickly so as not to have the door shut on him, Uther's voice sighed in his ear.

"I trust you to guard my son?"

"Yes, your majesty," Merlin murmured.

Arthur crept into one of the older cars, slipping a key into the ignition. Merlin bit his lip and scrambled in when Arthur put the windows down. He cranked up some awful radio station and pulled out, speeding away, incognito.

He relaxed back into the seat, feet hanging out the window, feeling lighter than he had in months. Maybe it was because he was in the 'outside' world and the only places he'd seen were Arthur's school, Arthur's room, his own room, and his practice room. Maybe he really had become as stir-crazy as the poor prince, what with graduation coming soon.

The sun on his face was nice and the breeze whipping through the car was brilliant, Merlin still in his suit. Smoothing his hands over his chest, the clothes became a light cotton t-shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He frowned as the surroundings became familiar. He sat up straight, pulling his feet in as he realised they were near his home and gaped in dread as they passed Ealdor Med, a shrine-like display next to a street lamp where Merlin had made his display. Shit.  
Collapsing back into the plush seat, the sun didn't seem so bright or the sky so blue as Arthur pulled to a stop at the beach where Merlin had spent many happy afternoons with Will, Gwen, and later Lance.

Not that Arthur knew that.

The prince threw a hat on and adjusted his sunglasses before getting out of the car and moseying down to the beach. Merlin was forced to follow. Unless he wanted to be accused of negligence. And subsequently lose his head should anything happen to Arthur.

He followed Arthur down towards the waves, the latter tugging off his shirt before flopping down in the sand, the shirt bunched under his head. Merlin sat next to him, knees tucked up against his chest, glaring at the sun. He's not thought to bring sunglasses. He didn't even own a pair anymore. There was probably one among his things at his mum's house. She wouldn't have thrown them away. Not everything. He sat straighter as the thought struck him. He COULD get them... There was that spell...

Merlin held out his hand and closed his eyes against the brightness focusing on bringing the shades to him, whispering the words. No luck. He sighed and moved away from Arthur to try again, whispering louder until he felt the weight in his hands, blinking in surprise. "Ha." There they were. He was grinning before he even realised, moving back next to the prince who was napping, arms behind his head.

"How about that," Merlin said triumphantly to his sleeping form.

Nudging the prince after a half hour so he wouldn't burn, Merlin strayed down closer to the waves, enjoying the cold bite of ocean around his ankles. There were two figures surfing down by the other end of the beach, another sunbather, but that was it as far as company went. Merlin sighed, the sun now dimmed through the dark lenses. Will had tried to teach him to surf once. Merlin couldn't do it without a bit of magic to help him stay on the board. He snickered humourlessly.

Flopping back, the sand was warm and the sun considerately hid itself half behind a cloud. Before long, voices, dream-like, were running through his head. Will laughing, calling Lance a sodding romantic. Just ask Gwen out already. Merlin smiled. Lance had fancied Gwen for the longest time. Lance probably turned red because he was stuttering and protesting. Will pressed him, there was nothing to hold him back. Will's voice trailed off. 'Hey. Hey Lance. It's a Pendragon car.'

"So," Lance replied, voice casually tight. "You brought me over here to tell me to ask Gwen out. Let's go back and get her."

Silent a moment, Will's voice was harsh and angry. "No, I don't think so. This wanker deserves some retribution."

"Will, that's not a good idea."

"_Shut-up_, Lance. You weren't there. You weren't there when they arrested him! Merlin! He was only... He was only _helping_. And they came and arrested him. You weren't there."

"I know," Lance's voice was low and echoed somewhere far from Merlin. "But it doesn't mean—"

"No, you know what. Sod off, mate."

It was only when there was a loud banging noise that Merlin woke with a start, realising this wasn't just a dream. "Shit..." He was on his feet and running towards where Arthur had parked the car.

Will was wailing away on Arthur's car like it was everything in life he hated, his face red with exertion and anger. Lance kept trying to grab him and hold him back. Gwen and Arthur were now on their feet and sprinting towards the car.

"Will!" Merlin yelled.

Will froze, as if struck. "What...?"

But then Arthur arrived, yelling, "What the fuck! What are you doing to my car!"

"Revenge, you self-satisfied rich arse!"

Arthur's eyes went wide, clearly affronted and then jabbed a finger at Will. "If you don't stop, mate, I'm going to charge you with assault. And I _do_ hope you know who I am."

"The sodding prince of England," Will mocked in a high voice, screwing up his face.

Arthur's darkened with anger. "Don't make me call the police on you."

"Why not?" Will challenged, giving the tail-lights another whack, shattering the plastic. "It's what you did to Merlin."

"Merlin?" Arthur paused, confused.

Gwen was panting next to Lance, trying to murmur to Will that this wasn't the way, wasn't the right thing to do, wasn't...

"Shut up, Gwen. He killed him."

"Killed _who_? I don't even who what you're talking about,"

"Don't play stupid, prince," Will roared, advancing on the prince. "You got our mate killed, all because of Daddy's rules about magic!"

"If he was using magic," Arthur retorted, "then he deserved his punishment."

Merlin winced. He didn't know, he didn't know, he... "Will!"

Will froze again, looking around.

Ghosting over to his friend as Lance and Gwen looked at him strangely, Merlin touched his friend's shoulder gently. Will spun. "M-merlin?" he choked out.

Gwen's eyes went wide, Lance gripping her hand.

"Will, this isn't the way," Merlin whispered.

"He _killed_ you! He fucking _killed _you, Merlin!" Will yelled into the air, voice breaking.

A sob choked out of Gwen and Lance looked away, his body stiff.

"He didn't."

"He's the bloody prince!"

"He didn't know," Merlin soothed.

"Where are you?" Will asked, sounding lost and lonely. "Where are you? We miss you."

"Merlin!" Gwen shouted, moving towards Will to hear. "Merlin, is that you?"

"I love you. I love you all," Merlin promised, heart breaking. "Tell my mum I love her. Don't be sad. I love you. Sorry I never said..."

"Merlin, you idiot!" Will yelled.

"Merlin!" Gwen shouted.

"Gwen, my sweet Gwen," Merlin murmured.

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded, stepping forward. "What—"

"Hush," Will barked. "Merlin? Merlin, what are you?"

"I'm here, Will. But only for a short time," Merlin said sadly. "I've got to be going. Give my love to mum."

"Merlin, Merlin wait!" Gwen protested, tears streaming down her face.

"Merlin!" Lance yelled, joining in. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry I wasn't there!"

Merlin laughed. "Lance, it's fine. Hardly your fault, mate." He waited a moment, looking at his friends who were looking everywhere but at him. Arthur stood off to the side, looking a little lost, not recognising his voice from all the times that he'd talked to him. He dropped his head, finally noticing the tears that were falling down his face.

"Merlin?" Will breathed, looking around as if he would see him. "Merlin?"

"Merlin?" Gwen asked, her voice high and worried.

"Merlin!" His friends shouted his name and all he could do was crouch down next to the ruined bumper of the car and cry silently. Gwen's sobs struck his heart each time and even Will let out a few broken coughs that sounded more like crying. Lance squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying to keep the tears in. He couldn't... He ghosted up past Arthur, whispering, "Go." into his ear.

Arthur started and then scuffed a foot awkwardly, backing away from the trio too involved in their reopened wounds of grief to notice him. As he unlocked he front door, he opened his mouth, but Merlin whispered, "Just go" to him and they were off back to the palace.

Merlin spent the rest of the day as a dog, curled up in Arthur's lap, sharing the space with his laptop, needing the human contact.

* * *

"Hm, so that's who they meant," Arthur mused to himself.

Merlin looked up, his dog eyes catching his own image, a childhood photo, on the screen, along with a news article about his death.

"It wasn't my fault," Arthur said stoutly, trying to convince himself. "He looks stupid, has big ears, and hardly dangerous." His free hand stroked Merlin's head. "It wasn't my fault."

Merlin wuufed quietly, nuzzling his hand.

"You know, don't you, Brown?"

Merlin assumed that meant him. Arthur was, of course, brilliant at naming his pets. He rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't my fault. I didn't know what those idiots were talking about."

Merlin stretched a leg out into the prince's abdomen.

Who grunted. "What? It's not my fault they went nutters on me. I didn't know about their mate." Arthur was quiet, staring at Merlin's picture. "He didn't sound like too bad of a chap, you know? He was just trying to help." Arthur sighed and closed the lap-top, leaning back into the pillows of his bed to nap.

* * *

"Did you have fun this afternoon?" Uther asked lightly, his tone suggesting that he knew everything already.

"I did."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Arthur replied in the same casual tone. "Went to the beach."

Silence.

Arthur broke first. "Listen, about the car, I can explain."

Uther looked up finally. "The car? What's wrong with it. Looked fine to me."

Arthur blinked. "Oh. Um. Then."

Merlin nibbled his lip as Arthur worked to extricate himself from the situation. He hoped that it wouldn't attract attention to him. He'd fixed the car. If Uther had seen that and known what had happened, then he would be killed. Dead. Deceased. For real. And he wouldn't be any sort of ghost to tell his friends that he loved them.

"Something wrong, Arthur?"

"What? Oh, no. No, it's fine." Arthur returned to his dinner and small-talk that didn't mean anything continued for the rest of dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur never said anything else about the weirdness in his life after one day muttering that his life was nutters in his room. Merlin didn't know how he dealt with it, other than pretending Merlin was part of his sub-conscious, the dog was a stray, the car incident was one of Merlin's friends having magic, and all the little times he was safe when he should have hurt himself just dumb luck.

Uther breezed into Arthur's room, telling him they were going hunting. As he walked out, he indicated to Merlin to stay put. Merlin nodded and then waited until they were gone before meandering to his practice room. Morgana stalked past him, eyes blazing with fury, making Merlin glad she couldn't see him.

Five minutes into his practice, Merlin was bored. He grew a tree. He shrank the tree, enlarged the tree, made the tree invisible, turned the tree bright pink, made the tree talk, vanished the tree to his room. He created a copy of himself that stared at him (and drooled a little) like a really dumb dog until Merlin vanished that too with a shudder. Merlin created a miniature Earth, spinning and spinning above his hand, he slowed it and zoomed in, tossing the waves, blowing the air. He turned it into a patch of land, grew some corn, tomatoes, squash, peppers, and watermelon. Built a house. Put it all under a shield and blew it up. He was just working on knitting it back together when Uther's voice shouted in his ear.

"FALCON. I NEED YOU HERE RIGHT NOW."

"What?"

"NOW. Arthur is injured," the king's worried voice demanded.

Merlin stood, filled with the need to be _there. _He took a step and looked down at Uther. Uther blinked. And Merlin blinked. Because that had never happened before. Uther holding Arthur in his lap, looking up at him with a mix of terror and shock.

"Well!" Uther said expectantly. "_Fix _him."

Merlin hesitated a moment longer, the red of Arthur's blood, on his head, across his ribs, the bone sticking out of his arm, he staggered back and bent over, suddenly vomiting everything in his stomach.

"God, get _over_ here," Uther hisses, yanking on whatever part of Merlin he can grab.

Merlin's hands tremble as he looked down on the prince and whispered the first healing spell that came to mind. It didn't work.

"Concentrate!"

Merlin gulped and put his hands on Arthur's cheeks, _thinking _really hard about his goodness as he pushed the blood back inside and knit bone and repaired torn flesh. Arthur jerked under his touch, keening at the back of his throat, unconscious. Merlin flushed, but continued the spell, Uther petting his son's hair, in a state of rare distress.

Falling back onto his bum when it was done, Merlin breathed. Just breathed. Inhaled. Exhaled.

Uther had no eyes for him, so he backed away and waited, the breathing stopping, until Arthur's pale face began to regain colour and he coughed weakly. "Arthur. Arthur are you okay? Can you hear me?"

"I..." He coughed and tried again. "I can hear you just fine, father. What happened?"

"You fell. Off the horse. Hit your head."

"Just my head?" the prince groaned.

"I'm sure you'll have other bruises," Uther said more calmly, now that he saw his son was alive and behaving normally. "What do you remember?"

"We're hunting," he replied tartly, "and something startled Dragon and I fell. Dropping—crap. I dropped Excalibur somewhere."

Merlin tried. He really tried not to snicker. Arthur was just _really _terrible at naming things.

Uther glared at him, but it didn't hold the same heat, mouthing, "Find it."

So Merlin stood back and called the silly gun to him, placing it nearby. And waited. Uther managed to get a disoriented Arthur back to his feet before pulling out his cell phone to call for a car to come and pick them up.

"Father," Arthur protested, "I don't need someone to come and _get _me; I _can_ ride. I'm fine."

Uther's look silenced him. "This is _not_ a discussion or even a suggestion."

"It was just a little fall."

"Little?" Uther spat the word. "_Arthur_. You could be _concussed_. You _will_ not argue with me, and as soon as we return, Gaius is giving you a thorough look-over, because I will _not_ have anything wrong with you. "

"Yes," Arthur promptly agreed, shocked into saying so.

* * *

Arthur was declared fine by Gaius when they arrived home and Uther ordered him to his room for rest, seconded by Gaius. Reluctantly, the prince went.

"Falcon, I want your eyes on him _every. Second._"

"Yes, sire," Merlin murmured, having been the one to guide the horses home into the hands of a suspicious stable master and then magic himself back to Uther's side.

The entirety of the incident hadn't passed Merlin by without some well-gleaned knowledge. Uther cared _deeply_ for his son, though he had no idea how to express so without ordering boundaries and limitations. Uther didn't know how to show him love other than approval in silence and a lack of criticism. Uther couldn't hug his son for fear that propriety would tear him down into something less than what he thought himself to be. Uther was a powerful, immutable, all-knowing force that could not become less than what he was: a king. Not a father, a king. And magic was a threat to him not only because of Ygraine's death, but also because it was something_more_ than Uther. Uther had to be the greatest common denominator of things, and his will resolute, he had to be right. Because he was _right_, his might was then inarguable.

However, because of Arthur, Uther would bend the rules.

Uther would bend the rules, _only when no one was there to see_. Thus, Merlin had to be invisible to the entire world except for Uther (his master) and Kay and Percival (his watchers). Had Arthur had an accident on a busy street, Merlin was sure that Uther would have secreted him away with the strict order that Merlin would attend him (and Kay and Percival) in cleaning the prince. His wounds were, after all, just superficial with a lot of blood. Nothing serious, of course.

Merlin rolled his eyes, pacing around the prince's chambers, said body emphatically sulking on his bed. "You just scared him, you know."

Arthur jumped. "Shit. Scared the shit out of me, Voice."

Merlin snorted.

"You haven't talked to me in a while. I'd begun to think that I've turned sane."

"You'll never be sane." Pause. "Sorry. Did I say that aloud?"

Arthur snorted then. "Shove off."

"You'll miss me if I go."

He didn't answer, choosing to look out the window, arms crossed, brow furrowed. "So he orders me to bed?"

"Sorry?"

He rolled his eyes. "So my _father_ orders me to bed. Like an invalid. I'm _fine_. There's nothing wrong with me. Except for some bruises and a headache."

"I know."

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"I _know_," Merlin said, bothered by his own lack of discretion. "Doesn't mean that you shouldn't take it easy after a tumble."

"That's what she said," the prince drawled.

"You're sick."

"Well you're the voice."

"Try and understand it," Merlin retorted.

"Make a noise," Arthur tossed back.

"And make it clear—"

"Whoa-oooh, oh oh oh ohhhh," they finished in unison, laughing.

"I wish you were real," Arthur said after they'd both quieted.

Merlin bit his lip and very much wished that Arthur had not said that.

"You still there?"

"No. Your wishing me real has made me unreal," he said to dispel the real-ness of their conversation.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Thanks. Thanks for that. You know, as long as I'm confined to my room, can you at least entertain me? And, have you seen that dog? There's a dog around here somewhere in this palace. I call him Brown—"

"Let me guess. Because he's brown."

"Don't mock."

"Your...propensity for naming things, Arthur, is decidedly lacking."

Arthur glared.

"Brown, Excalibur, Spot, Dragon, Curly?"

"Fine. _Fine. _So maybe I'm not the most...creative person. But still. A name's a name. Whatever. You haven't seen the dog?"

"No. Arthur. I have not seen the dog."

"Well, then it must be magic, because I certainly don't know where it is or how it comes and goes."

"You're clearly going mad," Merlin said casually.

"You know, that might be funny. If I weren't the _prince of bloody England_."

"Yes, and that might make it all the funnier. Mad King Arthur."

"If I could strangle you, I would."

"I believe you've used that threat before."

Arthur laughed. "Oh well. At least you're here to entertain me."

"Yes, your most glorious highness. Because my entire purpose is to entertain."

"Now you've got it."

* * *

Uther's tenuous control of his paranoia about Arthur's safety was only calmed briefly before he discovered that there were riots present on Arthur's uni campus. So of course, he confined him to the palace and Merlin was left to entertain. Again. Only this time, Arthur glowered resolutely, with alcohol.

"Can you drink?"

"No," Merlin said, to be on the safe side.

"Good. More for me." He slammed the bottle of rum down on his desk and opened it ruthlessly, pouring himself a shot which he quickly downed in favour of taking another. And then a third.

"That's the quick way, you know."

"That's the point."

"If you insist."

"I thought you weren't supposed to judge me!"

Merlin hoped Arthur wasn't a mean drunk. "I'm here to guide you."

He snorted. "Right. Thanks. You're helping so much." He tipped up a fourth, grimacing and shaking it off. "Shit."

"Pissed is more like," Merlin commented.

"Shut up, Voice. Do you even have a name? Or are you just some nameless haunt that likes to torment me?" challenged Arthur, the alcohol beginning to take effect.

"Poor prince. No. I'm just a nameless haunt, forgotten in the pages of history, never to be remembered because I don't exist," he said, feeling suddenly sorry for himself. "On second thought... Maybe I can drink..." He magicked another cup and poured himself a drink, the items seeming to float eerily before Arthur's eyes. He shuddered as the liquor burned down his throat and coughed lightly.

"I wager you're a light-weight."

"I wager I am. No substance. Bound to get drunk quick," Merlin replied, betting on Arthur's drunkness to let the aberrations in his behaviour and abilities slide.

"I wager I'll drunk you under the table."

"I wager you're right."

"You're not supposed to agree with you."

"I thought everyone was supposed to agree with you."

"Shut up, Voice. You're supposed to argue with me like you always do."

"Because you get off on that, do you?" Merlin snorted, tipping back his second shot.

"Maybe I do," the prince replied, trying to look official and just managing horny.

"Ooh, you don't want to go there..."

"Why not?"

"Because you're young, I'm...not real, and your father wants you to settle down with a nice girl and give him babies."

"Bollocks on my father."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "And _now_ the teenaged rebellion comes in."

"In case you had f'gotten, _Voice_, I'm not a _teenager_. I'm _20_."

"Because that entitles you to everything, of course."

"Why are you so contrary."

"Why are you such a prat?"

"Because I'm the sodding _prince_, and I can do what I want."

"You know, if people knew what you were really like, they'd hate you."

"That's why I pretend," Arthur said, a little too seriously. "But you don't hate me, do you?"

Merlin took advantage of a Pendragon silence, gathering his thoughts, regretting his willful tongue.

"Do you?"

Arthur looked so sad that guild flared up in Merlin's chest. "Of course. That's why I haunt you," he jested lightly.

"Don't be silly. You're not a ghost."

"Then what am I?"

"If I knew _that_, then I wouldn't be so confused, eh?"

Merlin quietly put the prince to bed when he got so disoriented and pissed that he could hardly stand without threatening to brain himself on the floor.

"I wish you were real."

Merling started, almost dropping him face-first onto the bed.

"I think I'd like you. You're honest. Nice voice. I could listen to your voice. And kind. You always know what to say."

Merlin flushed. Or it may have been the remaining rum...

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

* * *

He slept in Arthur's lazyboy that night.

Sometime in the middle, he woke to Arthur's groans, so he rose, thinking something wrong with the prince. He froze when he realised something was _wrong_ with the prince.

Arthur's trousers pushed down and shirt pushed up, he watched Arthur coax himself off, little pants and murmurs of "yes," "just...just a little...," and "come on" punctuating the hard pulls on his prick.

Shit, Merlin cursed violently in his head. He couldn't look away and felt himself twitch in response. He stumbled back into the chair, falling into it and clapping his hands over his eyes. Awkward, awkward, this was terribly awkward. It was worse than the time he constantly cock-blocked Sophia in Arthur's bed. He pushed at his own half-hard prick, willing himself to not be turned on. This was so terribly wrong. Even more so because it turned him on. But he couldn't close his ears as well as his eyes. Arthur gave a final grunt and then there was some rustling before Arthur sighed into his pillows and, with minimal shifting, fell asleep. Merlin didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

Thankfully Uther summoned him the next morning. Merlin was there as soon as his feet would carry him. "Yes, Sire?"

"Falcon, I don't believe that I've thanked you for the life of my son."

"Um."

"I wanted to let you know that I have appreciated your efforts and loyalty."

Merlin stared. This was definitely something new.

"Therefore, as recompense, I wish to...award you something."

"Sire?"

Uther sighed. "The unfortunate result, Falcon, is that I do not know _quite_ what to award you. I do not know you."

"You know me better than some, your majesty," Merlin comforted.

"This may be true, but I do not know what you would like. Money?"

"Can't really spend it."

"A car? Scooter?"

"It seems I can get anywhere I want with just a wish."

Uther glowered. "I cannot—"

"You know... There's... There's this bakery. Santa Gloria's Delights," Merlin began, eyeing Uther from beneath his lashes. "They make _really_ great cakes... There's one that's called Delight in Decay."

Uther's brow arched up.

"It's chocolate and has Oreo crumb on top, raspberry filling between the layers of cake. Butterscotch frosting."

Uther's face twisted into some expression of disgust. "It sounds...sweet."

"I would settle for that." He grinned.

"Are..._all_ sorcerers this strange?"

"No. I wager they're all a little bit different. Like normal people, you know. Just with abilities."

"Mm-hmm. Very well. I shall see what can be done about this..._cake_ of yours."

"Thanks!" Merlin turned to go, Uther calling him back one more time.

"You have my gratitude."

He bowed. "You're welcome." He paused, his hand on the doorknob. "And Uther? Your son will make you a proud father when it is time for him to take the throne." Then he slipped out the door before Uther could call him back for his breach of propriety.

* * *

The cake arrived the next week, sitting, nicely packaged, on his desk, along with 45 quid. He stared. Grinned. Immediately grabbed up the fork sitting next to the box, opened said box and dug the fork in. Moaned as it entered his mouth, almost sinful, and mostly sexual.

There was a cough at the door and he looked, guiltily, at Kay who was grinning widely. "Good cake."

"The best," Merlin defended. "You wouldn't believe."

"It smelled good," the guard admitted. "I don't know if I'd like it."

Merlin reached for a fork that wasn't there, magicking one into existence and handed Kay a full bite. "It's amazing. It's fantastic and blissful, and...and... I don't even know. The best thing I've ever tasted."

"Was it a regular occurrence...in your...other life?"

"Oh no. Only on my 18th birthday," Merlin said taking another sinful bite.

"Gracious. That is..." Kay shook his head. "That's quite something."

"It is isn't it."  
"Very well. You um. Enjoy it."

"Does Arthur like sweet things?"

"Arthur?" Kay looked surprised by the question. "Not overly, no."

"Oh." He couldn't help feeling a bit disappointed. He'd wanted to share it with the prince.

Kay shrugged. "Uther said you're to have tomorrow off if you like. You can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?"

"Well, not _whatever_, but he gave you some spending money and you could go out and...get yourself something. Or whatever."

Merlin nodded, thinking that there really wasn't anything he needed. And now that he was much better with magic, he could just magic anything he needed into existence. If he wasn't careful, it was a type of hubris that would bring him down faster than Uther's derogatory commentary on sorcerers.

In the end, Merlin left a piece of cake on Arthur's dresser and then took Uther's money and saw a film, bought candy (magicked never tasted quite the same), a new pair of trainers, and a t-shirt that he liked.

Strolling back to the palace, he paused in the park, taking the liberty to sit on one of the benches and absorb some of the sun. Life passed by, leaving him feeling rather melancholic about being a man who didn't exist. The children chased each other while mother's looked on fondly, business men with their journals examining stocks, art students leaning against trees to sketch nature's offerings. It was all very cliché and if he didn't leave soon, he would probably be crying and moping.

So he curled a lip in disgust at himself and went back to Camelot Palace, nearly bumping into Gaius in the halls.

"Hello?" the old man called, looking around

Merlin shrank against the wall.

"Is someone there?" Gaius frowned and scrutinized the surrounding hall. "I could have sworn..." But he shook his head and moved on.

"Shit..." Merlin probably would have thought about it more, but the rest of the day was his, so he grabbed his computer and trudged to the library. The window seats were golden—comfortable and just the perfect size for him to curl up in. "Shit." He'd forgotten the charger. With a resigned sigh, he stood, placing the beast on the window seat and then pausing. What if... He squinted at it and then used his magic to just _push_ and start the thing up. It booted beautifully and ran wifi even better than normal. "Yes! Merlin, you. Are. A. Genius!" So he curled up with it again, played Unicorn Robot Attack, did spell research, and composed letters on the computer that Gwen, Lance, Will, and his mum would never read.

* * *

He supposed the whole irony of it was hubris. He had gotten careless. And with Uther backing his use of magic and supporting his expansion of knowledge and skill, he had gotten careless. With his constant invisibility that was second only to breathing, he had gotten careless. With his almost infinite power and ingenuity, he had gotten careless. With his special duty of guarding the prince and giving the license to do that however he saw fit so long as it was _done_, he had gotten careless. And when he expected clemency for his good work and forgiveness for the core of he being, he had gotten careless.

And careless was, his mother tearfully insisted, what was going to get him killed.

So when Merlin was 25, his three birthdays passed, because there were no birthdays for men who didn't exist, his combined hubris and carelessness had gotten the better of him.

Arthur had graduated in a grand fashion, complete with a bachelors in both Philosophy, Politics and Economics, and History and Economics. Uther was very proud. So of course he threw a party. Morgana had been roped into a fair amount of the planning as Uther was not doing so well these recent days. He was more introspective and, if Merlin had to choose a word, smoother around the edges of his older age and wisdom. Not that that would inspire him to rescind some of his more heartless edicts.

The party was not to be held at Camelot Palace. Instead, Uther rented out the poshest banquet hall in England, taking Merlin with him to walk it's corridors and examine he main dining room, the long tables empty and heavy, waiting to be filled with company and good food.

Merlin said it was lovely. He moved to one of the adjacent corridors, looking out over the railed balcony that overlooked a wide garden that opened up into a large courtyard. That was sure to be popular for couples, he was sure.

"It's set for three in the afternoon," Uther said. "Make your preparations the day before. You have permission for leave to do so." The king waved his hand, dismissing Merlin's abilities to protect his son.

The media, of course, had gushed over their golden child, now an entering member of society. He would take place in major decisions, and it was known that, despite his wealth and privilege, Arthur did have a heart for the common people. They were ready to follow him into kingdom.

Merlin couldn't help but feel proud. Like he had had something to do with it. In a way, it probably was true. Those years of being his invisible friend, confidant, ego-popper. He had hopefully guided Arthur into a more considerate existence. Tempered his youth, polished his edges. But then again, Merlin was probably just flattering himself. This prince was golden, but not just for his shining hair or the gleam of golden eyes that stood behind him proudly. He would be a good king.

The thought had crossed his mind what he might do after Uther passed. Would Arthur accept magic? They had conversed about it several times. Arthur never seemed too passionate about it one way or another. He did not share his father's hatred for the ability, however, and that eased Merlin's mind on the subject.

In the end, Merlin was there as Arthur dressed, solitary, in his room, the shirt covering his broad back. The tie holding the shirt in propriety. The jacket smoothed over the shirt. The trousers neatly pressed.

"Voice?"

"Yes, Arthur?" he replied fondly.

"This is the final step."

"Only to the next first one."

Arthur shook his head with a fond smile of his own as he adjusted his cuffs. "Time for being cryptic?"

"No."

"No? What then?"

"You will be a great king, Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther," Merlin said, the formality sounding right.

"I suppose it's a comfort that my own subconscious has more confidence in me than myself."

"Don't put yourself down. You will be awe-inspiring. The people love you, and wish your rule."

Arthur snorted, though Merlin could see the nerves.

Giving in to temptation, Merlin let a finger drift out lightly and smooth the man's brow.

He flinched in response and then sighed. "Are you real after all?"

"No. No, I'm not. Your father waits."

Arthur nodded tightly and gave himself an encouraging look in the mirror.

"You look fine, your highness. Get going now."

* * *

In the end, Merlin was there in the limo on the way to the hall.

In the end, Merlin was beside Arthur the entire greeting period.

In the end, Merlin was behind Arthur as he ate dinner, his table a mix of good friends, family of course, and public and governmental officials. The entire thing was highly publicised. News reporters, journalists, and more press passes that Merlin knew of were there.

In the end, Merlin used the best part of his agility to avoid the other dancers around Arthur.

* * *

In the end, Merlin _wasn't_ there when Arthur left for the loo and didn't come back quick enough. He swore quickly, alerted Uther and took off running through the hall to look for the missing prince. He wasn't in the loo, the coat-closet, or the dance floor. He also wasn't out by the limo, the front patio area, or the hors d'oeuvres table. He hurried out to the garden where Uther was, standing stiff by the fountain with a glass of wine in his hand, the ambassador of France next to him. Arthur had been flirting with one of the girls earlier. Perhaps he came down here for a brief snog. Uther caught sight of Merlin, eyes ready to blaze fire. Merlin shook his head, peering into the dark corners of the garden. Shit. He started down one of the more concealed garden paths when a voice called out over the area.

"You most royal majesty!"

Merlin stopped, eyes on Uther, then, following the man's gaze, up to the balconied area.

"I believe I have something you want."

A man stepped forward, hand fisted in a head of hair. Arthur. His heart froze and breath deserted him.

"What do you want." Uther's voice was cold like steel, permeating the garden.

The man laughed. "Very good. I want freedom."

"You'll have to be a bit more specific."

The man spread his hand out and fire carved a line in the stone before Uther.

A sneer spread Uther's lips, nasty. "You want freedom for your sorcery? That will never happen." The people with cameras slowly slipped them out, flicked them on, recording the events.

The man shrugged. "Very well. Then your son shall never be king."

Uther waited.

"There is a reason you are down there and I am up here, you know."

This was developing into a dangerous hostage situation, Arthur's life much to at risk. He moved towards the centre of the garden, trying to catch Uther's gaze and see his plan. But Uther's eyes were only on his son and the pitiful picture he made, bent over the rail, a fist in his hair, and his hands tied behind his back.

"Arthur!" Merlin couldn't help the gasp that tore out of him as the prince was pushed further.

The man holding him narrowed his eyes. "Who else is there? I see you all, but..."

Merlin cursed mentally, grasping for the situation.

"Derick!" The man shouted and more people melted out of the shadows at the outskirts of the gardens.

'Sorcery' was whispered around the whole place and the tension was reaching its breaking point.

"I do not deal with sorcerers," Uther said firmly. "Release my son."

Arthur struggled, but couldn't have done anything.

"Who do you have working for you?" the man holding Arthur demanded. He snarled down at the scene, trying to _see_ and failing. "Patricia!"

A woman stepped forward and murmured a spell. Merlin felt it wash over him, resisting it, but he heard people gasp and stare at him. At him. At him _physically_. He was becoming visible. He concentrated harder, but Uther's strangled shout of "ARTHUR!" broke his concentration completely as the prince was tipped head first over the rail.

A roar from Merlin stopped his descent, but then everything began to happen at once. The sorcerers behind them in the garden spouted fire and rained stones and grew vines and threw ice. Security rushed in firing guns but the bullets went astray more often than not. The sorcerers at the top of the balcony yelled words at Merlin.

Merlin.

Merlin who was visible. And trying very hard to return the sorcerers' spells and keep Arthur aloft. He threw down a barrier against the spells and set Arthur on his feet. A wave of his hand removed the restraints, another putting a barrier over him. He briefly noticed the prince's eyes following him, aghast and full of wonder.

Then he was moving, the sorcerers behind he picked off one by one, shielding Uther and the rest of the people, throwing fire when he had a chance at the ones on the balcony. He advanced, eyes bright gold, on the ones on the ground, tossing them aside as if they were no consequence. Then he turned his gaze to the chanting people on the balcony.

"Leave these people alone," he ordered, voice deep and echoing with thunder. The people flinched and gaped at him.

"Or what?" the man at the top teased cruelly.

"You have seen my skill. You have seen what I did to them," Merlin gestured calmly at the dead sorcerers behind him.

"You fight your own kind?"

"Your ways are wrong, my friend."

"We are obviously not friends if you are on that side while I on this." He leaned back as a blonde woman whispered something in his ear. "What? You!" He pointed at Merlin. "I know you."

Shit. "It doesn't matter who I—"

"_Mer_lin!" He chortled. "You are _Merlin_."

"Merlin is dead," he replied tonelessly.

"You _are _Merlin Emrys," the blonde woman says with authority. "We all recognise your face."

He avoids Arthur's eyes and Uther's. "Merlin is dead," he repeats and then pulls one of the sorcerers over the rail.

"How can you work for him!" The woman screams, throwing fire at him.

Merlin lets it wash over him, dissolving into ash. "I don't. I think the way you're going about things is wrong. So I'm stopping you."

The couple sneers at him before vaulting over the edge themselves and calling down lightning.

Merlin diverted it back to the remaining two sorcerers up on the balcony. People screamed, but they weren't hurt. The pair was sizing him up, waiting for him to make a move. "You've no chance of winning. I don't want to kill you."

"As if you could," the woman sneered. She leapt at him, changing into a tiger, swiping a large paw at him.

Merlin parried with a sword called from air, pushing her back with a mental shove. The man jumped into the fray, vines threatening to tie Merlin down, but he flew upwards instead, into the sky, calling dark clouds to the area, winds picking up as he focused his attention down on the two. He was long past the point of not wanting to call attention. His voice rumbled through the earth as he hovered, mid-air. "Cease your foolish action. I _will_ kill you if you force me."

The blonde woman snarled back into her human form and threw fire at the prince, stunned on the ground. It flashed against Merlin's protective barrier and he shook his head. "The prince is protected by me. You will not harm him."

Another wave of his hand and he had the two of them flattened to the ground. "Do you submit?"

"You're nothing but a _tool_, Merlin! And here we had _respect_ for you! We mourned your passing for two months! You didn't deserve death!"

"I was only a martyr to your cause!" Merlin roared back, unmindful of the people who covered their ears and winced. "You take this too far and use your abilities to lever power and abuse your own perceived rights. Do _not_ take this out on me!"

The man winced, but the woman grinned ferally at him. "And you? What do you do, killing your own kind, protecting the object of your death and imprisonment?"

"This is right," Merlin replied. "And you are dead." The two people wailed and began to panic as they slowly turned to horrifying stone images. He dropped his head and finally allowed himself to sink to the ground. No sooner had he landed, he was tackled to the ground, an anti-magic cuff slapped on his wrist while the other arm flailed away. Voices raised in both outcry and approval immediately, condemning him as a danger to their lives or the saviour of their golden boy.

Who, Merlin noted through a tangle of limbs as he was pressed to the ground by Uther's guards, was staring at him. Then he was standing, his mouth open—shouting?

"Father! This man saved my _life_!"

"Arthur, he is a sorcerer," Uther said, the same uncompromising tones there, though, as Merlin twisted, he saw the impatient regret as Merlin was manhandled to his knees. Their eyes met, just a moment, and Merlin smiled. Forgave. Uther looked away. "He must be punished."

"Your majesty!" News reporters angled in immediately. "What is the meaning of this man appearing. Merlin Emrys died years ago!"

"Who is this man—"

"Do you know him, your majesty—"

"What's his purpose—"

"Is he a native englishman—"

"—loyal subject—"

"—secret agenda—"

Merlin sighed, hands pulled roughly behind his back. He didn't try to resist. It was too late.

"Wait!" Arthur stalked over. "You. You saved my life."

"I did, your highness."

Arthur's eyes widened. "I was right! You're... you're _him_!"

The realisation that Arthur recognised his voice hit him. He shook his head. "Arthur! Arthur, no!"

"That's _Prince_ Arthur," one of the guards reprimanded with a cuff to the head. They hauled him to his feet at Uther's wave and began pulling him from the garden.

"Arthur, I'm _sorry_! Please forgive me!" Merlin shouted, struggling to get his point across to the prince.

Arthur's gaze was murderous. "Don't tell me you're _sorry_! You did... all of _this_! You saved my _life_! And I _knew—_"

Merlin's brows lifted as he realised that maybe Arthur wasn't mad for the reason he thought. He managed one last shout of Arthur's name before he was arranged into a vehicle and taken back to Camelot Palace to be tossed into his old cell, Kay's apologetic glance the last human face he would probably see.


	5. Epilogue

The days passed slowly at first, but then they all seemed to blur into one another. Stuck in Uther's prison. He didn't know why the man didn't just execute him. Perhaps something to do with guilt, Merlin mused as his stubbled turned into a beard. As if living his life in seven feet by five feet was the better alternative to death.

The guilt he'd thought he'd feel over the fresh pain his not-death would have on his mum and mates was less than what existed. Maybe because everything was so numb. He couldn't touch his magic, though every so often, he'd push and push and _push_ until he felt something spark, but then it would go back to nothing. The numb nothing feeling that nothing could touch him now. He'd waste away in the depths of the middle of nowhere, somewhere that didn't exist, just as he no longer existed. Again. He was already officially dead anyway. But he was sure that the media was having a field day with all of he stunts that Merlin pulled. He smiled faintly at the memory. He had been intimidating and terrifying. Out with a bang, he supposed.

Then there was Arthur. There were a billion different ways for Merlin to have interpreted that brief conversation. If it could be called that. In the end, he stopped trying.

He wished for his computer. A pen and paper. A rock. A tennis ball. A blanket some nights. A softer pallet. A phone.

An unnamed guard slid food into his cell twice a day, always with enough to save for lunch. Uther must really have felt guilty.

Not that it wasn't his fault he was in this situation anyway. Or Merlin's own fault for trying to stop the robbers from stealing and from shooting Ealdor Med's owner.

* * *

Time passed by Merlin's beard. It had been Two Inches. And his beard was not particularly fast-growing. It was really all just boring. The food varied—though little—and there was no one to talk to. So he settled for himself, muttering occasionally, quietly. To himself. By Four and a Half Inches, Merlin was having full-blown conversations with himself, aware that it made him look mad. Though he couldn't seem to care. He stopped when he heard footsteps coming to deliver food. By Seven Inches, he didn't even care anymore, pacing theatrically, gesturing emphatically, arguing successfully. He wished he at least could have retained some Shakespeare. The best he had was speeches from the telly and movie quotes. So he strung them together to make stories for himself.

When that got boring, he lay on his stomach and moved piles of dust into formations and played war with them. Or made mountains and valleys and imagined them to be fantastic vistas with cliffs on the sea.

Eventually, it had been Twelve and a Half Inches.

Twelve and a Half Inches of time. And that was only a guesstamate. Merlin wasn't very reliable at measuring with his fingers. His beard was long and he was sure he was even scrawnier than usual, any muscles atrophied from lazing about on the floor and pallet. His clothes were filthy and worn through in places. It probably didn't help that he had spent a large amount of time on the floor.

The door opened. Food. He wasn't hungry yet. So he continued to stare at the ceiling.

"Merlin Emrys."

Time for his execution then? Finally? After so long, it would finally be a relief.

"God you're a mess."

He looked towards the door. Instead of Uther standing there, it was _Arthur_. Arthur looking older. More mature. More...stately.

"That beard looks ridiculous on you."

"What?" He said stupidly.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Kay, get over here, would you? Hurry up."

Kay hurried over with an armload of things curious enough to make Merlin rise and shuffle towards the bars.

"What are you—" Merlin stopped as it came out as a croak. "What are you doing here?"

"Saving you."

Merlin couldn't help the eyebrow lifting.

"Honestly. No one could be bothered with a pair of scissors or at least some new clothes?"

Kay dumped the items near Arthur's feet and then produced a key to open the cell.

Looking from one man to the other in panic, Merlin backed away from the bars. "Wha-what are you doing?" Kay pushed the door open and then bowed before leaving.

"Merlin, what does it _look_ like I'm doing. I'm letting you out."

"But your father—"

Arthur's face tightens. "My father is dead."

"O-oh." It whooshed out of him, just like some of the tension, and Arthur stepped in and unlocked the cuffs himself.

"You don't deserve to be down here."

"Sorcerer. Remember?" Merlin smiled wryly, massaging his wrists.

"My father's rules. Remember?"

"Arthur, I'm sorry—"

"It was his time." He waved his hand over the apology. "And I've had plenty of time to think. You know..."

"What?"

"There was this voice that used to talk to me. Insult me. Say the stupidest things sometimes."

"Really?" Merlin arched a brow, going for innocence.

"Yes, and he was really great company. Until he suddenly disappeared."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I find that I miss him." Arthur cocked his head. "There was also a dog."

"That you brilliantly named."

Arthur just smiled. "So that was you then?"

"It was," Merlin admitted with a shrug. He stretched his arms over his head with a moan of appreciation. On the way down, he let them trail over his face, the hair falling away.

Arthur's face made it worth it. "That was..."

"Amazing? Astonishing? Awe-inspiring? Fantastic?"

"I was going to go with disgusting. Or strange."

"God, you have no idea what it's like to finally talk to another real person."

The expression changed on Arthur's face, looking a little like guilt.

"Oh, don't. Don't feel bad. It was your dad's fault. He couldn't kill me and he couldn't put me back in my position. Both for the same reason."

"Which was?" Arthur asked, voice low and breathless.

"I saved your life."

"I'm sorry my father's a coward, Merlin. Now that I finally know your name." Arthur's lips curled up in a smile. "But thank you for saving my life."

"Now. I need something from you."

The hope that had flared up fizzled away. "What is it?"

"Now that I'm king and all, trying to build support from all sectors, I was hoping that you would... stand by me and show the sorcerers that I mean them no harm."

"You want—what?"

"Close your mouth," Arthur retorted, looking a little bit insecure. "It's just that... I need your help."

Merlin laughed. Cracking up even harder at Arthur's alarmed expression. "You're letting me out?" Merlin said when he was able.

"I should have thought that obvious."

"No restrictions?"

"You're to be my public voice towards the sorcerers. If you want it," he tacked on hastily.

"Your partner in crime?"

"That was bad." Though his grin said otherwise. "My mentor. My bodyguard. My...friend?"

Merlin shook his head. "That sounds perfect. How long has it been?"

"How long—oh. Since you've been in here, about two and a quarter years."

"God..."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It wasn't your fault."

"No. But it was yours. You were terrifying. No, don't look pleased. You were like...like a _god_ come down to smite me. Or. Them."

"Sire, that _was_ the intended effect. Though I suppose I did get a bit carried away."

"Yeah, the flying bit? Impressive. The lightning and sudden storm? Terrifying."

"I shall endeavour to not be...terrifying in the future."

"Unless I order you to."

"Then, by all means, I shall be."

Arthur laughed, leaning close, his head suddenly dropping on the man's shoulder.

"Arthur?"

"God, my own father. I never even...I never _realised_. I was so _sheltered_. And now... Now I know just how much was actually wrong."

Patting his back awkwardly, Merlin allowed a tender smile to play about his lips. "And now I'm here—to save the day."

"Idiot," he said fondly.

"Certainly not. Though, you know, we could move this discussion out of here—seen enough of it thanks, for the rest of my life. I need a few things."

"Anything."

"A bath."

"Done."

"A change of clothes."

"They're right outside."

"And a mobile."

"For?"

"I'm calling my mum. Poor woman thinks I'm dead twice. She'll be delighted, if not struck dumb, to talk to me. And my mates."

Arthur smiled. "You may certainly have _all_ of those things. And whatever else you wish."

"A cake from Santa Gloria's Delights."

"Um. Done. I said, whatever you may like, Merlin. Just get it. You'll be employed by me. You'll get paid. Don't worry about."

"Great. That's perfect." Merlin smiled, the expression slipping when Arthur leaned in closer to him, a guarded expression on his face. He kept very still, Arthur's eyes flicking up at his briefly before he pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Arthur?"

"That was for saving my life."

"Um. You're welcome."

Then Arthur kissed him fully on the lips and Merlin groaned merely at the first human contact he'd had in years.

"Maybe we could..." Arthur murmured. "My room? We..."

Merlin grabbed him tight and then they were there, Arthur's same room, looking rather different if he bothered to pay attention.

Arthur murmured something about being amazed, and how useful, and definitely later, but it degenerated as they fell backwards onto the bed and Merlin felt himself be content for the first time possibly ever.


End file.
